All who want to go to Iceland
To catch cod and fish with desire
To Iceland, to Iceland, to Iceland
After thirty-three trips they are still not tired
When the time of the fair is drawing near
We dance with pleasure and we don't complain
But when the time comes to go to sea
Then our heads are filled with fierce worry
When the wind blows from the north
Then we go to the inn and we drink without a shame
We drink there, we drink there at our leisure
Until the last francs (pennies) are out of our pockets
And when the wind blows from the east
The skipper, happy as could be, says "That wind is deceitful...
... it will be better, will be better, will be better ...
... just to go straight into the channel 'fore the wind."
Along the Scillies over the rough waters
All along the Irish coasts where the sea is always lusty
Then comes along, then comes along our sturgeon
And he gives us the course straight to the mainland
We pass the island of Rockall
Anyone can reveal that according to the bird claws
And then from there, and then from there to Breidifjord
Then there we throw the nets overboard
All who want to go to Iceland
To catch cod and to go fishing with the lads
To Iceland, to Iceland, to Iceland
After thirty-three trips they are still not tired
After thirty-three trips they are still not tired
