Migration

Prologue

For more than a millennium, the Icelandic nation has endured in the harsh conditions of the Arctic North. Long dark winters filled the national psyche with a strong faith in the supernatural, the mysterious and hidden. Intertwined with Christianity was a deep-rooted belief in the Hidden People, the White-elfs, who occupied a parallel dimension.

Believed to be Christian, and near indistinguishable in looks and lifestyle from their human counterparts, these often reflected the deepest needs and longings of the people.

In the dark of winter at New Year, groups of the Hidden People could often be seen migrating to warmer, brighter regions…

I

When northern lights with mystique glow,

in eerie colours shine and gleam,

reflecting light on ice and snow

as thousand diamonds sparkle, beam.

In eerie colours shine and gleam

the elfen hordes that move below;

as thousand diamonds sparkle, beam,

their faces strong resilience show.

The elfen hordes that move below

the migrant’s path are forced to tread,

their faces strong resilience show,

towards their destination led.

The migrant’s path are forced to tread

all those who find the struggle hard,

towards their destination led

with hopes and dreams forever marred.

All those who find the struggle hard

on new horizons come to gaze,

with hopes and dreams forever marred

uncertain future forced to face.

On new horizons come to gaze

like elfs in new-year migrant mode,

uncertain future forced to face

all those who travel down that road.

Like elfs in new-year migrant mode

with hopes and dreams in tow, transformed,

all those who travel down that road

to distant shores, by sun re-warmed.

With hopes and dreams in tow, transformed,

the migrant’s heart with fire burns,

to distant shores, by sun re-warmed,

the soul with quiet longing yearns.

The migrant’s heart with fire burns

reflecting light on ice and snow,

the soul with quiet longing yearns

when northern lights with mystique glow.

II

From ice and fire, to surf and sun,

with seven children to their name,

they travelled far, alone, unsung,

with strong resilience they came.

With seven children to their name

how rich they felt, they oft recount,

with strong resilience they came,

though poor, of love the right amount.

How rich they felt, they oft recount

when thinking back on days of old,

though poor, of love the right amount,

its worth in riches more than gold.

When thinking back on days of old,

of frost and snow, of cold profound,

its worth in riches more than gold,

that northern land, by winter bound.

Of frost and snow, of dark profound,

in memory so close, so near,

that northern land by winter bound,

the home of family so dear.

In memory so close, so near,

the migrant’s plight on foreign strand;

the home of family so dear,

that new homeland of sun and sand

                                                                                                                       
                  The migrant’s plight on foreign strand,

the struggle for new life complete,

that new homeland of sun and sand

the memories of old delete.

The struggle for new life complete,

they travelled far, alone, unsung.

The memories of old delete,

from ice and fire, to surf and sun.

III

Migration is in God’s grand plan

for creatures great and small alike,

the hearts with travel yearning can

with longing burn, with passion strike.

For creatures, great and small alike

a far-off land can promise hold.

With longing burn, with passion strike

a journey for both young and old.

A far-off land can promise hold

for mythic elfs of fancies flight,

a journey for both young and old,

all those who see the saviour’s light.

For mythic elfs of fancies flight

in hidden ways real life reflect:

All those who see the Saviour’s light,

God’s own migration do detect.

In hidden ways real life reflect

the words that Passion’s story hold,

God’s own migration do detect,

inspire, teach, his will unfold.

The words that Passion’s story hold,

the hearts with travel yearning can

inspire, teach, his will unfold:

migration is in God’s grand plan.

The picture is found on http://www.eyjar.is/~icefire/gluggar/tjodsogur/alfar/alfoghuld.htm