My eyes admire the clouds
Wich become its glory and power
The wind pushes us toward the
Nordic star
Of our ancestors
Of our gods,
Whispering like a choir
From the northem warriors

The ravens fly
Above our heads
Now i hear the sound
Of the horses from behind the clouds,
And the trumpets,
Announching its arrival

The frost falls down on our helmet,
As if it werw baptizing us
With the power of the wind and the rain
I can feel my soul becoming purified
In front of a hammer,
Culting the eternal sky