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