Vor í Vaglaskógi [English translation]

The evening is ours, and the spring in Vagla-wood,

we're going camping in the green berry fields.

Lead me, friend, to the grove of yesterday,

There the spring murmurs, and the birch trees grow.

It plays in the fair curls and the sweet smelling roses,

It plays in the fair curls; the stirring wind.

Pearls of light, glittering in the dale, bring peace,

The dreams come true of those who visit Vagla-wood.

The red evening light, on the crowberries, shines.

The silence is soothing; melancholy and mild.

It plays in the fair curls and the sweet smelling roses,

It plays in the fair curls; the stirring wind.

It plays in the fair curls and the sweet smelling roses,

It plays in the fair curls; the stirring wind.

It plays in the fair curls; the stirring wind.