We paint the ground like a bloody canvas,
raiding through villages and towns.
We do not fear death on the battle field,
do not fear blades slicing through our leather skins;
for if we fall in battle,
Odin shall welcome us to Valhalla with a cheer.
We offer a sacrifice to Frey,
may he bring a bountiful grain harvest this season.
We all wait with bated breath for the first stems
to piece through the arid ground.
Accept the blood that runs through the furrows,
Oh fertile one.
Let our people continue to prosper,
and we will keep raiding for you,
to share our wealth with the Gods.