The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.1957, Qupperneq 15

THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
13
DAVID STEFANSSON
FRA FAGRASKoGI
DaviS Stefansson fra Fagraskogi
Da vi'S Stefansson fra Fagraskogi!
This melodic and poetically connot-
ative name well becomes the most gift-
ed and, probably the best loved poet
of modern Iceland. Meeting this sensi-
tive and richly endowed poet remains
one of the most treasured experiences
of my life. He and his friend, Tryggvi
Sveinbjornsson were on one of the
“Foss” ships—Gullfoss, I believe it was—
traveling from Iceland to Copenhagen.
I had almost dreaded the voyage, for
on that August day in 1931 I was leav-
ing Iceland, after a 15 month stay, to
return to the United States. 1 had ar-
rived in Icdand the previous summer
with my father to participate in the
millennial celebration. Although I
knew practically no Icelandic before
stepping ashore that rainy day in June,
before the celebration was completed
I had so fallen in love with the coun-
try, the people, and the language that
by LOFTUR BJARNASON
I requested and was granted permis-
sion to remain for a few months.
The summer of 1930 I spent out in
the country, hearing and speaking no
English, so that by the time the Uni-
versity opened in the autumn, I was
able to enroll and to follow the lectures
with profit. The winter of 1930-31 1
immersed myself in Icelandic litera-
ture, both ancient and modern. My
favorite poets were Hannes Hafsteinn
and David Stefansson. I especially en-
joyed the light and delicate touch and
the rich sonorous language of the poet
from Fagraskogi. One can imagine,
therefore, my mixed feelings of awe
and delight when on the second day
out from Reykjavik, I met first Tryggvi
and then David.
The whole trip was idyllic in every
respect; the sea was glassy-calm, the
weather was bright, and the compan-
ionship exhilarating. As a youth of sev-
enteen I at first hesitated to take ad-
vantage of a chance acquaintanceship
of two such well-known men. Their
obvious friendliness and infectious
good humor, however, soon dispelled
any reservations that I had. We walk-
ed the deck discussing literature and
poetry as well as hundreds of other
things. David, with his usual modesty,
could only occasionally be prevailed
upon to recite or to read his poetry.
This was disappointing to me, for who