Sanskrit
Yesterday is already a dream
and tomorrow is only a vision.
But today, well lived,
makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope.

So if I pick up all my pieces
that lie scattered around my world
I might find a way to fullfill this philosophical plea.
To long have I wandered, stripped of the things I need to be.
A raven of the night who knows not sleep,
I repeat the vicious circle of my non-existance.
Stuck between the world of tomorrow and yesterday,
I had no dream and see no vision.
Like the undead roaming in the night,
alone in the darkness of uncertainty,
aimlessly caressing deaths hands and lifes boosm,
blindly hoping that either of them would take me into their arms,
like a mother would a frightned child,
to carry me off down destinys cold, empty streets.
But here I am still and will always be,
stuck in the ever deepening cravass between life and death,
wake and sleep.
In no mans land I\'ll dwell forever.  
Stefán
1985 - ...


Ljóð eftir Stefán(i)

Spegillinn
Skýjasæng
Hugarlundur
Ábyrgðarlaus
Þoka
Jól
Bakkus
Úr formi
Lögleg nauðgun
Óboðinn gestur
Angel
Smíði
Kúkur
This black day
Til
123
Waking death
Depression
Prejudice
Yfirgnæfandi heimska
Donde?
Sanskrit
Contemplating the sun
Night
Greed
Of cigarettes and life
Fantasy
Limra II