This morning as a farewell
The raging sea cried the lost
Of the worth sons of Iceland
The reign of winter is coming
Over the mighty heathen land
Winter snowy storms
Is singing now with the spirits of the dead heroes...
The song of Runes on the storm
Sounds like a magic melody
This night may they come back
My proud Ancestors
I call to them in the old tongue
May the steel shine again
When to east the first sign
Will witness their returning hails...
The song of the waves on the shores
This morning as a summoning
Waited by the old man standing on a rock
Sol arose at horizon
Above a misty nordic sea
And like from far away
A horn sound crossed the sky of fire...
Runahild Thrumublom.
