Hans Siste Vinter

En mann dro for å lage ild,
Om hjertet brant hans sjel, var vill
I et slag hvor far var glemt, det ble hans lange, kalde siste vinter.
Vræææææl
En kriger stor, med kovnet sinn
I tåkedal, han ble ført inn
Fra sitt ariske palass
Det ble han siste, lange, kalde, siste vinter
Kvitekrist og jøder feirer nå
De tror at Odin ville forgå
Men kampen den har nå begynt
Det er hans største ærefulle seier
One man went to make a fire
His heart was burning, wild was his soul
In a battle where the father was forgotten, it became his lang, cold last winter
A great warrior, with a strangled mind
He was led into a foggy valley
From his Aryan palace
It is his last, long, cold last winter
Whitechrist and Jews are now celebrating
They thought that Odin would perish
But the battle has now begun
It is his last big honourable victory