We sold our homesteads and started on our way

just like the birds will fly when autumn is here to stay.

One day they will return, come spring again that's when.

But we will never see our native country again. 



At first we travelled through the English countryside

on tracks and on wagons as quickly as birds would fly.

It was a lovely sight to see the land at last

but all the glorious sights kept flashing by too fast. 



And later when we came to Liverpuddlian bay

the tears of regret finally started to have their say.

The hearts then started burning in each and everyone

we only talked of Sweden that used to be our home. 



We all were packed together in one unhealthy cave

it was as if we'd stepped into an open grave.

The food that we had brought from blessed Swedish land

was suddenly forbidden and taken from our hand. 



And when we had been sailing for just a week or two

a horrid kind of darkness was clouding our view.

We couldn't see each other and hardly breathe or walk

it was a gruesome anguish for all people aboard. 



The air was filled with hunger and drenched in wretched cries,

the howling and the noises would pierce right through the skies

and death became the ruler that forces us to our knees.

The dead were buried in the horrid fathom of the seas.