Mnga var de som fll.
Desto fler runt Valhalls fyllda bord.
En sorgesng jag sknker dem.
Som vidare fr i skldmars
famn.
Tankar och trar till dem som gtt hn.
Som nu blickar vid Asgrds port.
Minnen och kvden skaldas snart.
Vid elden i
gillestid.
Vi som hr sitta hjer vra horn.
Till de som sitter vid Allfaderns bord.
Tillsammans dricker vi segerns
full.
Till enga vis.
Hemma hr i drottens hall.
Sklar vi fr ring och fred.
Ingen sorg br vi mer.
Till gldje och rus vi
ger oss hn.
[Translate to English:]
Many were those who fell.
All the more round the laden table of Valhalla.
A song
of mourning I give to them.
Those who went to the embrace of shield maidens.
Reminiscence and tears to those who went
hence.
Who now gaze by the gates of Asagard.
Memories and songs will soon be sung.
By the fire in times of feasting.
We
who sit here raise our drinking horns.
To those who sit at the table of the Father of All.
Together we drink to victory.
And to
One-Eye wise.
Here in the halls of the king.
We drink to yield and peace.
Grief we carry no more.
We indulge in joy and
intoxication.
