There is a road over the mountain
into the depths of the forests
Garders here suffered a cruel fate
At the funeral pyre many mourned a raven
The plague ravaged the Norwegian countryside
from port over land to another port
With heavy subbing steps it
into the embrace of the deep forests
Death in black made the soul frozen,
made the skin weak under a norrà ¯Â¿Â½n sky
A road goes over the mountain
into the embrace of the deep forests
Slow walking leads me
into the dark forest kingdom
To find a farm, aged and abandoned
from a lonely, black and endless night...

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