Oh, Father Mine, once miner proud,
too soon, to you, came sleep and shroud.
So many battles still to win,
adventures aching to begin.
I paint you now: Eric the Red.
At dawn of day already dead.
Your orphan offspring, precious gift,
on sea of fate, you set adrift.
Your Dido queen torn up with grief,
her red-raw wound found no relief.
Shipwrecked on sorrow’s senseless shore,
sent mad, since you came home no more.
Oh, Father Mine, my lifetime’s done.
You’re young enough to be MY son!
So don’t feel sad o’er parting’s plight,
for soon, with you, I will unite!