Tú alfagra land mítt, mín dýrasta ogn!
My land, oh most beauteous, possession most dear,
á vetri so randhvítt, á sumri við logn,
Thou drawest me to thee, embracing me near;
tú tekur meg at tær so tætt í tín favn.
becalmed in the summer, in winter snow covered,
Tit oyggjar so mætar, Guð signi tað navn,
magnificent islands, by God named beloved.
sum menn tykkum góvu, tá teir tykkum sóu.
The name which men gave thee when they thee discovered,
Ja, Guð signi Føroyar, mítt land!
Oh, God bless thee, Faroes my land.
Hin roðin, sum skínur á sumri í líð,
Bright gleam, which in summer makes hill-tops so fair;
hin ódnin, sum týnir mangt lív vetrartíð,
rough gale, which in winter drives men to despair;
og myrkrið, sum fjalir mær bjartasta mál,
oh life taking storm, oh conquest of soul,
og ljósið, sum spælir mær sigur í sál:
all making sweet music uniting the whole.
alt streingir, ið tóna, sum vága og vóna,
Each hoping and trusting, inspiring us all,
at eg verji Føroyar, mítt land.
To guard thee, O Faroes my land.
Eg nígi tí niður í bøn til tín, Guð:
And therefore, I kneel down, to Thee God, in prayer,
Hin heilagi friður mær falli í lut!
may peaceful my lot be, and do thou me spare,
Lat sál mína tváa sær í tíni dýrd!
my soul cleansed; in glory; I ask Thee to bless,
So torir hon vága - av Gudi væl skírd -
when I raise my banner and venture the stress.
at bera tað merkið, sum eyðkennir verkið,
The sign of my task, be it lifted on high,
ið varðveitir Føroyar, mítt land!
To guard thee, O Faroes my land.