Wat nea fergiet
Want wat nea fergiet is ús heidensk hert
It hert dat de dreunen fan Mjöllnir heart
En wat nea fergiet en wat altyd bliuwt
Us grutskens, ús eare, de krêft fan in liuw
Want wat der ek bart en wêr’t wy ek gean
It is it bloed fan Ymir dat troch ús streamt
Bûn oan de boarne, grutbrocht yn striid
Us heidenske hert is wat wier nea fergiet
Al binne wy ferjage fan hillige grûn
Us risping en ús ekers oan it frjemdfolk jûn
Ien ding bliuwt fan ús, dêr komt nimmen oan
It leauwen yn ús goaden, it is in ûnbrekbere bân
Soannen fan Inguz, Wêda sil foar jim stean
En mank Ty en Tuner de einstriid yn gean
En al wêr’t jim ek stjerre, dochters fan Nertha
De ein is it begjin foar hja dy’t in heidensk hert ha
Op de troan fan Fosite is ús eigen rjocht ûntsien
En troch ús libben op it wetter is dat rjocht mei gien
Wy binne eigensinnich, wy knibbelje nea en laitsje om de dea
Wy binne eigenwiis, wy binne de Fries, dat wat nea fergiet
What Never Forgets
What never forgets is our heathen heart
The heart that hears the beats of Mjöllnir
And what never forgets and what always remains
Our pride, our honor, the strength of a lion
Because whatever happens and wherever we go
It's the blood of Ymir that flows through us
Bound to the source, nurtured in battle
Our heathen heart is what truly never forgets
Even if we are driven from sacred ground
Our respect and our acres given to the foreigners
One thing remains of us, untouched by anyone
The belief in our gods, it's an unbreakable bond
Sons of Inguz, Wêda will stand for you
And among Ty and Tuner, enter the final battle
And wherever you may die, daughters of Nertha
The end is the beginning for those with a heathen heart
On the throne of Fosite, our own rights denied
And through our life on the water, that right has gone
We are stubborn, we never kneel and laugh at death
We are stubborn, we are the Frisians, what never forgets