Strong oars crash to the waves
Northern wind carries the ships
Toward their home row grey-haired warriors
Leaving strange lands far behind
Grasping flock of ravens were circling
Under coverlet of night clouds
Sleeping shore was covered, like with black wing
With the shadows of the horrifying dragonheads
Like a whirlwind we rode under crimson moon
We didn’t count slain enemies
By our force we have taken the riches and glory
Of turned into dust strange shores!
In scabbards rests now icy steel
Sky has changed its crimson color
Passed out of sight flocks of black ravens
The holds are crammed with wines and coins
Winter sun shines through the clouds
Throws its ray on snow-covered fjord
Icy strong wind rips the sails –
It brings our drakkars to the homeward shore
Bound up wives with sons will meet us
Troll will hide in mountain ravine
With tongues of winter piles, reaching out to the sky
The fest of Yule begins now!
Again fill be filled our bowls
Foreign wines flow, like a river
Drunkenness again will overcome our heads
Gloomy singer, sing your song for us!
And through the centuries Scald’s strings will sing
Songs of our bold victories
But the Gods carve again the Runes of War for us
Their Spirit in us will never cease!
Again the sunset is colored with crimson blood
Again we will leave our home for long
The world will be shaken with our power
Again we go to march for glory!