en sólin er miklu eldri

Today I received kveðjur from both east and west as well as the image of the day flying over Europe towards me (like the sun) on straight wings (but with tired engine?) like the long-winged gulls in the dark lit from below by the lights in front of the university (otherwise magnificent) or like a plane remembered from a song heard long before I had seen this landscape in the slanting light like that seen this morning (terrific sun), sliding under the lip of the rainclouds (quite nicely) and catching them pulling all manner of strange faces, and since then I have heard that song jangling through and between the other words of the day (I do say nicely), and yet somehow I am not despairing (I do mean that) that no one might ever understand what that feels like (actually).