| A | B | C | D | E | F | G | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
1 | Link to FlipGrid: https://flipgrid.com/a203ce52 | ||||||
2 | númer | nafn | Taka upp á FlipGrid | númer | nafn | Taka upp á FlipGrid | |
3 | 1 | Álfhildur Leifsdóttir | This poem is called "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out" | 13 | Halldóra Kr. Valgarðsdóttir | with greasy napkins, cookie crumbs Globs of gooey bubble gum, | |
4 | 2 | Anna Snæbjörnsdóttir | It was written by Shel Silverstein in 1974 | 14 | Hjördís Ýrr Skúladóttir | cellophane from green baloney rubbery blubbery macaroni | |
5 | 3 | Bergþóra Þórhallsdóttir | Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout would not take the garbage out | 15 | Inga Dís Sigurðardóttir | peanut butter, caked and dry Curdled milk and crusts of pie, | |
6 | 4 | Björk Hlöðversdóttir | She'd scour the pots and scrub the pans Candy the yams and spice the hams | 16 | Kristinn Frans Stefánsson | moldy melons, dried-up mustard, eggshells mixed with lemon custard | |
7 | 5 | Diljá Dögg Gunnarsdóttir | And though her daddy would scream and shout She simply would not take the garbage out | 17 | Laufey Alda Sigvaldadóttir | Cold french fries and rancid meat, yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat | |
8 | 6 | Dögg Gunnarsdóttir | And so, it piled up to the ceilings Coffee grounds, potato peelings | 18 | Margrét Tómasdóttir | At last the garbage reached so high that it finally touched the sky | |
9 | 7 | Drífa Sigurjónsdóttir | Brown bananas, rotten peas chunks of sour cottage cheese | 19 | Ólína Þorleifsdóttir | And all the neighbors moved away And none of her friends would come to play | |
10 | 8 | Erna Höskuldsdóttir | That filled the can and covered the floor, cracked the window and blocked the door | 20 | Ragnheiður Eygló Guðmundsdóttir | And finally, Sarah Cynthia Stout said "OK, I'll take the garbage out!" | |
11 | 9 | Eyrún Óskarsdóttir | With bacon rinds and chicken bones, drippy ins of ice cream cones | 21 | Sara Helgadóttir | But then, of course, it was too late The garbage reached across the state | |
12 | 10 | G.Linda Sverrisdóttir | Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel | 22 | Sveinn Jóhann Þórðarson | From New York to the Golden Gate And there, in the garbage she did hate | |
13 | 11 | Guðfinna Hákonardóttir | Crusts of black burned buttered toast And gristly bits of beefy roast | 23 | Valgerður Ósk Einarsdóttir | Poor Sarah met an awful fate That I cannot, right now relate | |
14 | 12 | Guðríður Sveinsdóttir | The garbage rolled on down the hall, it raised the roof, it broke the wall | 24 | Þórey Gunnarsdóttir | But children, remember Sarah Stout And always take the garbage out | |
15 | |||||||