Og hvør ið enn klettum ræður ei á vindi vá
Teir hildu um stýrisvøl tá ódnin legði á
"Legg upp í lotið," rópti ein og samdir teir
hála á stýrisvøl, men alt til fánýtis

Leiðin er løgd, í gróti er høgd,
og eru vit nøgd tá søgnin er søgd

Og skriður tín knørrur fram tað sama hvat tú vil
Teir bardust um stýrisvøl men einki róður til
Og enn vit halda stýrisvøl eins og vit
halda vit eru fræls, trælborin óspurd so

Fjakka vit øll um kirkjugarðsvøll
í oyðini høll, um fjarbláu fjøll

Tiltuskað av landnyrðings ódn, og vindurin
leikar í Miðgarði mól
Til Ásgarðs har Askurin stóð, sum træðrirnir
lívsins í lotinum har blaktraðu tá

Fjakka vit øll um kirkjugarðsvøll
í oyðini høll, um fjarbláu fjøll

og fløtur, vitandi hvat mál vit megna livandi
Og feigdin dregur liðandi, vit vála henni
Tigandi á ting

[Solo: Heri Joensen]
[Solo: Terji Skibenæs]

Fjakka vit øll um kirkjugarðsvøll
í oyðini høll, um fjarbláu fjøll

Væl vitandi langnunnar leið, men gott er
tað treystið at val er í vón
Óteljandi leiðirnar tær, men ilt er tað
treystið at valið er gjørt, leiðin bert ein

Leiðin er løgd, í gróti er høgd
og eru vit nøgd tá søgnin er søgd

[Translation:]

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

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
114
114.119
King Arthur Lyrics
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