Cales. KRF. Barbarian Paganus. Zeneszám

War booty, armour forged by the hands of a craftsman
Harvest and noble presents, trading with loot.
Fragrance and stench everywhere
Abundance of everything you may desire

Heroes from the north-east, sturdy Vikings cunning
Slavs, dogged Saxons, juggler Celts and wild Arabs and Turks, mad pagan dogs.
Highlanders, herdsmen and sea-farers,
Warriors and wandering tradesmen,
Nearly all the scum of the heathen nations

Skirmishes and pleasures, women shameless
Wine and beer and booze, drinks galore,
To your heart's content
With a beggar's stick or wielding a sword, it devil may care.

Now live, tomorrow you'll be struck down;
With a bit of luck you'll die a cow's death in the hay.

Every wolf knows the purpose of his mouth,
Hunted like a marauder, unwelcome murdering beast,
Must be uprooted from his own territory.
The headsman strikes the merciful blow
And pulls the rope for everyone who don't bow down their backs