Flaumen går, I Noreg er vår [English translation]

The flood breaks,

in Norway there is spring,

in the valleys the birch trees are budding.

Man from the Valley*

silent and sturdy

clears the land of the farm of his fathers.

See how the light rises in the Woodlands,

the avalanches crashes along the sides of the mountains.

The flood breaks,

in Norway there is spring,

and the men of the Valley reign.

From the mountain trickles

a brook so tenderly

amongst grass and stones.

Many small brooks merge

into a river

the most beautiful you could ever see.

Listen how the water rushes

listen how the waterfall surges

The flood breaks,

in Norway there is spring,

and the men of the Valley reign.

Small brook

can you understand

however did it gain this power/this voice.

The running stream

is a grown man.

Stop him if you can.

No man can turn the stream.

Lumber and houses are brushed aside.

The flood breaks,

in Norway there is spring,

and the men of the Valley reign.

Man of the city, stiff and tight

in the streets he walks,

believing he is our teacher.

But I am not

intimidated by you

I decide my own path.

The farmers are no longer meek,

the rights of the landowners will we use.

The right is ours

(uncertain..)

...

If we return late

We are nevertheless strong.

We will clear the farm.

The language of the farmers,

sharp as steel

will be patient no more.

We must have Norwegian language in Norway,

no more struggling with the Danish language.

The language of the farmers,

sharp as steel

will be patient no more.

Shiny as gold

and soft as wool

is the Norwegian language.

Like sunshine on mountains,

Like fields of flowers(?)

Like the birdsong in the evening

Its roots run a thousand years deep

And a thousand years more it shall stand

The flood breaks,

in Norway there is spring,

and the men of the Valley reign.

In the summer

The sun shines on the earth

Makes the red campion blossom and flourish!

From over the hills

horns cry out

And the men of the valley clash their shields.

Off with the poor man´s hood

The golden helmets gleams in the morning light

From over the hills

horns cry out

And the men of the valley clash their shields.

The work of King Harald*

you, strong farmer,

must repeat now, the second time.

Old strong rocks

with deep roots

yet hold manhood and courage.

Come all, join our cause/journey

And it will be heard all over the world

that the men of Norway

ventured on and won

their own country back.

• Artist:Glittertind
• Album:Til Dovre Faller (2005)