Faderen sadt med sin Kniv og skar
Paa sit Indtun og søgte Svar
Han ere nu trætted og betænkt
Han saae sin Søn nu vokse til
Og undred om ham føre vil
Levnet ham ere ofred og skænkt
Sønnen saa et Brev bekommet;
Sønnen svor sin Siæl
Faderen med Sotte, forkommet,
Laae nu, uden Vilje, uden Lyst
Uden Tøven hasted Hiem
Naadde ei rettidigt frem,
Faderen havde resigneret sin Dyst
Dine Høster faaer du af Marken du saaer
Saa hold sirlig din Hæst og din Harv,
Før dit sidste Traa, maae du din Søn formaae
Saa han bliver ved her I sin Arv
Se til de nære, og hold dine kære
Og vid at de vil med dig henstaae
Lær din Søn alt derom Ætt og Gehalt
Og han høste vil saa din Stoltheds Haa
Faderen tog sit farvel
Higheil og sæl
Udvortes
Sønnen drog af Gaarde
Og Skammen slog en Aare
Indvortes
Derpaa, sin Odel
At beskikke
Han svor sit Eftermæle
Derpaa, hans Minde
At beskikke
Voldt efter forgangen Sed
Jeg muldlægger dig paa dit Arnested
Saa du kan følge med
At vor Families Hævd varer ved
I Utid, I Vansken
Vender jeg mig til din Houg hen
Saa du kan følge med
At vor Families Hævd varer ved
Naar min Tid kommen ere,
Skal jeg da selv lægges her,
Og min Sønnesøn,
Der vil føre vor staute Arv skvær
[English translation:]
Heritage
The father sat with his knife and carved
In his inner courtyard and sought answers
He is now arguing and thoughtful
He saw his son grown up
And wondered if he would carry on
The life he has been offered and granted
The son saw a letter come:
The son cursed his soul
The father with sickness, devastated
Lays now, without will, without desire
Without hesitating hurried home
Did not arrived right on time
The father had resigned to his battle
"Following the ancient custom
I will bury you in your birthplace
So that you can see
That our family's tradition lasts by
In bad times, in troubles
I will turn to your burial mound
So that you can see
That our family's tradition lasts by
When my time has come
I too shall be laid here
And my son's son
Will carry our proud heritage honestly"
"Your harvest you get from the ground you sow
So keep your horse and your harrow adorned
In your last wish, you must urge your son
So that he remains by his heritage
See the close ones, and hold your loved ones
And they will stand by you
Teach your son everything about family and value
And he will harvest your pride's hay"
The father took his farewell
Tranquil and happy
Outwards
The son left the farm
And the shame struck a vein
On the inside
Afterwards, his inherited land
He got in order
He swore his obituary
Afterwards, his memory
He got in order