The English translation of "Tord Foleson" as translated by Finn Tømmerberg. 


Tord Foleson

(Per Sivle, tr. Finn Tømmerberg)

They stood at Stiklestad
In battle array,
In ancient times
There dawned a new day,
Growth and advancement
Against all that should be tumbling,
And what should be ascending
Against all that should be crumbling.

They drew their broadswords
In the battle ring,
The grey Tore Hund
Against brave Olav the King,
And the ground was vibrating
With battle cries roaring,
And arrows were whizzing
And spears were soaring.

Tord Foleson, a remarkable 
Man in the land,
Held Olav´s standard
Erect in his hand,
Among standard-bearers
He is a well-known member,
And therefore in Norway
We must him remember.

When Tord was wounded 
In the fatal event,
As forth with the standard
In the combat he went,
He drove the pole into
The ground so well,
That it firmly stood
As he tumbled and fell.

And the ancient saga
With old stories good,
Says Tord fell dead
But the standard it stood,
And still should we all
Proceed in this manner,
If progress should be
Norway´s future-banner.

The bearer may tumble
But the standard must stand,
Like at Stiklestad of yore
In Norway´s land.
And that is the wisest
And greatest of all,
That the standard remains
Though the bearer must fall.