Sons of Norway, the age-old kingdom,
Sings to the harp’s the festive sound!
Manly and festive the tone let rise!
The fatherland dedicates our song.
Grand native memories recur
Each time we mention our roots.
Swelling hearts and glowing cheeks
Hail the loved, the holy name.
Antiquity, you faded, but your sacred flame
Still burns in the Norwegian’s heart;
Still by heritage and strength he is the same
Still his mind stands for freedom and honor
And when he sings Norway’s praise,
His heart swells with pride and desire.
To him even the South’s lovely places
Can’t compare to Norway’s snow-covered coast.