Looking out forward over the prow of our long ship,

pulling our oars and listening to the foam;

helmets and sheepskins salt-damp in the sea-mist:

We're going home.



Aslak of Langadale, Einar Thorgeirsson,

Olaf the White and Sigurd the Powerful...



Looking for constellations above the horizon,

West wind cutting sharper than our blades;

smiling forever into an endless sunrise,

we're flying on the waves.



Thorfin Karlsefny, Aud the Deep-Minded,

Snorri Thorbrandsson, Thorstein the Black....



Out of dark Vinland, with grey waves racing before us -

We want no rest.

Back to the homeland, Iceland, sleeping in winter -

back from the West.

Five years we roam;

now we're going home