Velua [English translation]

The sea of logs is ending, the edge of the forrest is near

Through the trees shines a purple glow of waves

Dartling wild is resting for a moment

On the elongated heaths

Wanderers, deserters sought their living here

Free from the meddling of the outside world

Being sod cutters

Unruly since their youth

There is no care and tranquility here

Arduous work takes its toll

The chapped sand cultivated

For a meager harvest

The Imbosscher man carrying the wood in heart and soul

Without complaining

Toiling through weather and wind

Crofters vigorously and hardend

The heath glows, summerair rises

Silence prevails

Strong winds are giving away

The nearing storm

The black sky is nearing, taking thunder

With it

Trees creaking, branches breaking

The commencement of the roaring storm

The sun extrudes the dark clouds

Oaks and birches in their green cloaks

The morning sun elluminates the gleaming leaves

Scents of moss covered woodland levitate