Make room,you peoples, for our tread
Wa are the last of the Goths,
We don't carry treasure's load,
Wa carry one that is dead.
Shields to shield and spear to spear,
We travel to Northland's ground,
Until we have in the far grey sea
The Island Thule found.
It's said to be the island of troth
where still valid are honor and oath
There we sink the King into the Earth
In a coffin of spears from ash.
Shields to shield and spear to spear,
We travel to Northland's ground,
Until we have in the far grey sea
The Island Thule found
Make room,you peoples, for our tread
Wa are the last of the Goths,
We don't carry treasure's load,
Wa carry one that is dead.
Shields to shield and spear to spear,
We travel to Northland's ground,
Until we have in the far grey sea
The Island Thule found
We come,make room,you peoples, for our tread
Through Rome's betraying gate.,
We only carry out king.
the crown was lost by fate
Shields to shield and spear to spear,
We travel to Northland's ground,
Until we have in the far grey sea
The Island Thule found |
