Lyrics of Undir Jökli - Sólstafir

Undir Jökli (original)

Frosin jörðin brakar undir fótum mínum,
mitt kalda stolt brennur í hjarta mínu
og fornir andar reika hér um undir jökli
eins og skuggar fortíðar sem dó, en lifir þó.
Þeir eru bergmál fjallana,
eins og viðkvæm sumarblóm
á kaldri vetrar nóttu
visna þeir, visna þeir og deyja.
Þeir eru vetrarins dauðu sumarblóm,
á leiði þeirra ég frostrósir lagði.
En þögnin boðar dauða minn.
Kom ég hingað til að deyja?
Hér þar sem sólin er köld
og auðnin endalaus,
hér undir jökli
þar sem fornir andar reika,
hér á ég heima
og hér vil ég deyja.
Under The Glacier (The Winters Dead Summerflowers)
Frozen soil cracks beneath my feets,
my cold pride burns in my heart
and ancient spirits wander around here beneath the glacier
like shadows of a past that died, but lives on though.
They are the echoes of the mountains,
like fragile summerflowers
on a cold winternight
they wither, they wither and die.
They are the winters dead summerflowers.
On their grave I layed frostroses.
But the silence annonunces my death.
Did I come here to die?
Here, where the sun is cold
and the desert is endless.
Here beneath the glacier
where ancient spirits wander.
Here is my home
and here I want to die.

(translation)

The frozen ground crashes under my feet,
my cold pride burns in my heart
and ancient spirits roam about under a glacier
like the shadows of the past that died, but still lives.
They are the echoes of the mountains,
like delicate summer flowers
on a cold winter night
they wither, they wither and die.
They are the dead summer flowers of winter,
on their way I laid frost roses.
But the silence heralds my death.
Did I come here to die?
Here where the sun is cold
and the desolation endless,
here under a glacier
where ancient spirits roam,
here I live
and here I want to die.
Under The Glacier (The Winters Dead Summerflowers)
Frozen soil cracks beneath my feets,
my cold pride burns in my heart
and ancient spirits wander around here beneath the glacier
like shadows of a past that died, but lives on though.
They are the echoes of the mountains,
like fragile summerflowers
on a cold winternight
they wither, they wither and die.
They are the winters dead summerflowers.
On their grave I layed frostroses.
But the silence announces my death.
Did I come here to die?
Here, where the sun is cold
and the desert is endless.
Here beneath the glacier
where ancient spirits wander.
Here is my home
and here I want to die.