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