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.