En isande vind
far fram genom skog och dalars hem
Fryser ben och märg
Krossar drömmar, rövar dem
Sov nu, lilla vännen min
Dröm ett litet sinnes drömmar
Vid elden stillhet råder
Här ditt folk vakar över dig
Men i forna seders mull gror livets frö igen
Hör nu vargen yla, kallar på sin sort
Inget svar i vinden ges
Hans släkte nu fördrivits bort
Livets tråd nu tvinnas
Må din väv bli seg och stark
Ty hårda tider stundar
Livets rötter kämpar i frusen mark
Men i forna seders mull gror livets frö igen
---
English translation
"Lullaby"
An ice cold wind blows through forests and home of valleys freezes bone and marrow crushes dreams, robs them...
Sleep now, my little friend dream the dreams of a small mind it is quiet by the fire your people watch over you...
But in the soil of old customs the seed of life grows again...
Now hear the wolf howl calling its kind there is no answer in the wind his kin now driven away...
The thread of life is twined may your weave be tough and strong for hard times await the roots of life struggle in frozen ground...
But in the soil of old customs the seed of life grows again... |
