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
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