Strokes from oars could be heard, beautiful ships gushed through the

sea.

Like a wind from the north, our ancestors reached the shore.

Men from Hordaland, Rogaland and Agder gathered for battle in common.

Proud men with no fear

Strokes from the sword crushed the skill of the christian

A long time we ruled, kings of the north

Many battles we won, at the shores of Midgard

But, betrayed by our own brothers we were forced down on our knees

Now, when the wind once again is howling, the thoughts finally goes

forward

home

We shall rise in our glory

The white horde wil for sure silver