Og hvřr iđ enn klettum rćđur ei á vindi vá

Teir hildu um stýrisvřl tá ódnin legđi á

"Legg upp í lotiđ," rópti ein og samdir teir

hála á stýrisvřl, men alt til fánýtis

Leiđin er lřgd, í gróti er hřgd,

og eru vit nřgd tá sřgnin er sřgd

Og skriđur tín knřrrur fram tađ sama hvat tú vil

Teir bardust um stýrisvřl men einki róđur til

Og enn vit halda stýrisvřl eins og vit

halda vit eru frćls, trćlborin óspurd so

Fjakka vit řll um kirkjugarđsvřll

í oyđini hřll, um fjarbláu fjřll

Tiltuskađ av landnyrđings ódn, og vindurin

leikar í Miđgarđi mól

Til Ásgarđs har Askurin stóđ, sum trćđrirnir

lívsins í lotinum har blaktrađu tá

Fjakka vit řll um kirkjugarđsvřll

í oyđini hřll, um fjarbláu fjřll

og flřtur, vitandi hvat mál vit megna livandi

Og feigdin dregur liđandi, vit vála henni

Tigandi á ting

Fjakka vit řll um kirkjugarđsvřll

í oyđini hřll, um fjarbláu fjřll

Vćl vitandi langnunnar leiđ, men gott er

tađ treystiđ at val er í vón

Óteljandi leiđirnar tćr, men ilt er tađ

treystiđ at valiđ er gjřrt, leiđin bert ein

Leiđin er lřgd, í gróti er hřgd

og eru vit nřgd tá sřgnin er sřgd

And whoever reigns these cliffs, did not defeat the wind

They held the tiller when the storm broke loose

"Steer into the wind," shouted one and united they

pulled the tiller, but all in vain

The course has been set, carved in stone

And are we satisfied when the tale is told

And does your ship advance regardless of what you want

They fought over the rudderless tiller

And still we hold the tiller as we

Think we are free, thrallborn unconsulted so

We all drift on the graveyard field

In desolate halls, about distant mountains

Drenched and weary by the northwestern

storm, and the winds rages in Midgard

To Asgard where the Ash stood, like the

threads of life then flapped in the breeze

We all drift on the graveyard field

In desolate halls, about distant mountains

And plains, knowing what goal we are capable of living

And destiny draws slowly, we drift to meet it

We all drift on the graveyard field

In desolate halls, about distant mountains

Well aware of the course of destiny but it is

comforting that choice is before us

Countless your possible courses, but

discomforting that the choice has been made,

only one course

The course has been set, carved in stone

And are we satisfied when the tale is told