Our people dwelt on mountains steeped in lore,
A mighty tribe as harsh as any beast
Who then, in face of madness swept to war,
The warlord Gunnar leading to the east.
This legacy of honour still lives on
In Gunnar's bloodline, fierce to this day.
We sing the tales of battles long since won
And from his righteous purpose never stray.
But long is gone the author of that threat
And even rolling boulders come to rest,
For Gunnar's ground is rich and fruitful yet
And Gunnar's blood with beauty blessed.
Now let these freemen from this conflict cease
And let this be the time of Gunthor's peace.