Miðdegi [English translation]

Like the ground mist

creeping around the hills,

we sneak quietly around the streets of the city.

From ótta until the middle of the morning

sound-torn darkness streams around my senses

I glide on the wings of death

into a red night.

I glide on the wings of death.

From náttmál until the day rises anew,

with light in a flask into the red night.

We absorbed the beauty.

From painful experience, and bitterness, knowledge grew.

I glide on the wings of death

into a red night.

I glide on the wings of death.