Letras: Týr. Ólavur Riddararós - EP. Stýrisvolurin.
:
Og hvor i? enn klettum r??ur ei a vindi va
Teir hildu um styrisvol ta odnin leg?i a
"Legg upp i loti?," ropti ein og samdir teir
hala a styrisvol, men alt til fanytis
Lei?in er logd, i groti er hogd,
og eru vit nogd ta sognin er sogd
Og skri?ur tin knorrur fram ta? sama hvat tu vil
Teir bardust um styrisvol men einki ro?ur til
Og enn vit halda styrisvol eins og vit
halda vit eru fr?ls, tr?lborin ospurd so
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
Tiltuska? av landnyr?ings odn, og vindurin
leikar i Mi?gar?i mol
Til Asgar?s har Askurin sto?, sum tr??rirnir
livsins i lotinum har blaktra?u ta
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
og flotur, vitandi hvat mal vit megna livandi
Og feigdin dregur li?andi, vit vala henni
Tigandi a ting
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
V?l vitandi langnunnar lei?, men gott er
ta? treysti? at val er i von
Oteljandi lei?irnar t?r, men ilt er ta?
treysti? at vali? er gjort, lei?in bert ein
Lei?in er logd, i groti er hogd
og eru vit nogd ta sognin er sogd
[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
Og hvor i? enn klettum r??ur ei a vindi va
Teir hildu um styrisvol ta odnin leg?i a
"Legg upp i loti?," ropti ein og samdir teir
hala a styrisvol, men alt til fanytis
Lei?in er logd, i groti er hogd,
og eru vit nogd ta sognin er sogd
Og skri?ur tin knorrur fram ta? sama hvat tu vil
Teir bardust um styrisvol men einki ro?ur til
Og enn vit halda styrisvol eins og vit
halda vit eru fr?ls, tr?lborin ospurd so
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
Tiltuska? av landnyr?ings odn, og vindurin
leikar i Mi?gar?i mol
Til Asgar?s har Askurin sto?, sum tr??rirnir
livsins i lotinum har blaktra?u ta
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
og flotur, vitandi hvat mal vit megna livandi
Og feigdin dregur li?andi, vit vala henni
Tigandi a ting
Fjakka vit oll um kirkjugar?svoll
i oy?ini holl, um fjarblau fjoll
V?l vitandi langnunnar lei?, men gott er
ta? treysti? at val er i von
Oteljandi lei?irnar t?r, men ilt er ta?
treysti? at vali? er gjort, lei?in bert ein
Lei?in er logd, i groti er hogd
og eru vit nogd ta sognin er sogd
[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
Týr