|
We hold the rivers of the Eastern trail |
|
Deep in the land of the Rus' |
|
Following the wind in our sails |
|
And the rhythm of the oars |
|
|
|
No shelter in this hostile land |
|
Constantly on guard |
|
Ready to fight and defend |
|
Ours ships 'til the bitter end |
|
|
|
We came under attack |
|
I received a deadly wound |
|
A spear was forced into my back |
|
Still I fought on |
|
|
|
When I am dead |
|
Lay me in a mound |
|
Raise a stone for all to see |
|
Runes carved to my memory |
|
|
|
Now here I lie on the river bank |
|
A long, long way from home |
|
Life is pouring out of me |
|
Soon I will be gone |
|
|
|
I tilt my head to the side |
|
And think of those back home |
|
I see the river rushing by |
|
Like blood runs from my wound |
|
|
|
Here I lie on wet sand |
|
I will not make it home |
|
I clench my sword in my hand |
|
Say farewell to those I love |
|
|
|
When I am dead |
|
Lay me in a mound |
|
Place my weapons by my side |
|
For the journey to Hall up high |
|
|
|
When I am dead |
|
Lay me in a mound |
|
Raise a stone for all to see |
|
Runes carved to my memory |
