Týr - Olavur Riddararos - traduction des paroles en anglais

Paroles et traduction Týr - Olavur Riddararos




Olavur Riddararos
Olavur the Knight of Roses
"Hvørt skal riða, Ólavur mín
"Where will you ride, my Olavur,
á lofti hongur brynja tín
your armor hangs in the air.
fer ikki at veiða tað hind
You're not going to hunt the hind,
Men fer til tína leikalind
But you are going to your playground.
Hvit er skjúrtan, væl er hon tvigin
White is your shirt, well it is woven,
í blóðI verður hon av tær drigin"
in blood it will be drawn from you."
ólavur snúðist síni móður frá
Olavur turned away from his mother,
"Gud gevi ikki ganga sum mær er spáad"
"God forbid it goes as it is predicted for me."
Ungir kallar, kátir kallar, gangið upp á gólv
Young men, happy men, go up on the floor,
Dansið lystilig
Dance merrily.
ólavur ríður eftir bjørgunum fram
Olavur rides along the mountains,
-Kol og smiður við
-Coal and smith with him.
Fann hann upp á eitt álvarann
He found himself on an elven meadow.
út kom eitt tað álvafljóð
Out came an elven sound,
Flættað hár á herðar dró
Braided hair down to her shoulders.
"Ver vælkomin Ólavur Riddararós
"Welcome, Olavur the Knight of Roses,
gakk í dans og kvøð fyri oss"
Come dance and sing for us."
"Tú tarvt ikki flætta títt hár fyri meg
"You don't need to braid your hair for me,
Eg eri ikki komin at biðja teg
I haven't come to woo you.
Eg kann ikki meira hjá álvum vera
I cannot stay with the elves any longer,
í morgin lati eg mítt brúdleyp gera"
Tomorrow I will have my wedding."
"Hvat heldur vilt sjey vetur liggja á strá
"Would you rather lie on straw for seven winters,
Ella vilt í morgin til moldar gá"
Or will you go to the earth tomorrow?"
Hon skonti honum í drykkjuhorn
She poured him a drink from a horn,
Har fór í tað eiturkorn
There went the poison grain.
ólavur studdist við saðilboga
Olavur leaned on the saddlebow,
-Kol og smiður við
-Coal and smith with him.
Hann kysti moy av lítlum huga
He then kissed the maiden with little thought.
Ungir kallar, kátir kallar, gangið upp á gólv
Young men, happy men, go up on the floor,
Dansið lystilig
Dance merrily.





Writer(s): DP, HERI JOENSEN


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