I’ll spend my Christmas alone, An immigrant’s tale, in a land unknown

Up in the North Pole where the snowflakes twirl, I’m writing to Santa, in this big, wide world. In Iceland, I’ll spend my Christmas alone, An immigrant’s tale, in a land unknown.

Oh, Santa, Santa, in your sleigh so bright, Bring some warmth to this cold, silent night. No family around, no laughter to hear, But still, I believe, hold Christmas near.

Snow-covered landscapes and lights in the dark, But the loneliness lingers, leaving a mark. Presents are few, in this land so grand, I long for the touch of a familiar hand.

Oh, Santa, Santa, flying high above, Bring a sprinkle of magic, fill my heart with love. In this Icelandic chill, where dreams may freeze, Grant me hope and joy, under Northern lights’ tease.

In a distant home, memories unfold, In the icy silence, tales of old. Yet, I believe in the magic you bring, In this foreign land, where carols sing.

Oh, Santa, Santa, in your coat so red, Bring the warmth of Christmas, ease the dread. Lonely in Iceland, but still, I’ll find, A simple, warm Christmas, in my heart, enshrined.

So here’s my letter, on this Arctic breeze, Hoping for joy, beneath the evergreen trees. Santa, oh Santa, in your reindeer flight, Bless this Christmas, in the land of ice and light.