Из альбома: Nordavind
Ein dugal kar fra garden dro
Han fulgte furuas sus
Opp gjennom åsen gråstein han bar
Staut hans gange var
Svøpt i morgengry
Under ein helnorsk himmel
Hans føtter traurig vandres hen
Mot sitt mål opp på høyden
Ein værbitt hand griper sverdet fatt
Og kløyver den blånende skalle
Hans kjeft den vrir seg i ulmende hat
Ufrender kommer at falle
Så stod han der på utkikkstopp
Hans øyne ei dei kviler
For han søkte reint eit syn
Men det ble ein grusom pine
Der blant norges skog og mark
Var fienden og fæl
Hans grimme sinn skulle vise dem
At norsønn han har nok at tæl
Ein værbitt hand griper sverdet fatt
Og kløyver den blånende skalle
Hans kjeft den vrir seg i ulmende hat
Ufrender kommer at falle
Norsønn tapte noregsgard
For ein «ansikt i» hær
Stolt han var dan han kom igjen
For å kløyve denne sitt sverd
[Norway's Home (translation)]
A strong guy from the farm went
He followed pine and breeze
Up through the hills, greystone and wilderness
Bold his steps was
Swathed in twilight
Under a completely norwegian sky
His feet steadily wandered
Towards their goal and upon heights
A weatherbitten hand clutches the sword
And cleaves the bluemen's heads
His mouth twist in smoldering hate
Unpeace will fall
Then he stood there on the look-out top
His eyes couldn't rest
Because he sought a pure sight
But it became a cruel pain
There in the midst of norwegian forest and wilderness
«
»
His grim mind should show them
That a son of the north has lots of guts
A weatherbitten hand clutches the sword
And cleaves the bluemen's heads
His mouth twist in smoldering hate
Unpeace will fall
The son of the north lost Norway's home
To a «
» army
Proud he was when he returned
To cleave them with his sword