The whole sky had looked like gold, she said, and as for the clouds! well, their beauty was beyond description, they floated in red and violet splendour over her head, and, far faster than they went, a flock of wild swans flew like a long white veil over the water toward the setting sun.
Himmalin hevur allur sæð út sum gull, segði hon, og hvat viðvíkir skýggjunum, er teirra vakurleiki oman fyri allar lýsingar, tey flutu í reyðum og violettum ljóma uppi yvir høvdinum á henni, og nógv skjótari enn tey flutu, fleyg ein bólkur av svanum sum eitt langt, hvítt slør uppi yvir vatninum móti teirri setandi sólini.