Serene and warm, now southern winds come streaming
to waken all the billows on the ocean,
who crowd toward Iceland with an urgent motion --
isle of my birth! where sand and surf are gleaming.

Oh waves and winds! embrace with bold caresses
the bluffs of home with all their seabirds calling!
Lovingly, waves, salute the boats out trawling!
Lightly, oh winds, kiss glowing cheeks and tresses!

Herald of spring! oh faithful thrush, who flies
fathomless heaven to reach our valleys, bearing
cargoes of song to sing the hills above:

there, if you meet an angel with bright eyes
under the neat, red-tasselled cap she's wearing,
greet her devoutly! That's the girl I love.