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