To you, forest of trees green and tall,
where dreams are alive,
I sing of gods and people under hill,
and the mystery of life.

I know you, montainous Norway,
snowy and dark and blue.
Sometimes I have been away,
but always I have returned to you.

I know your wild and noisy waves
like the voices of sea-trolls.
They surprised me many times,
but I sailed on being bold.

I know of battles and civil war,
of cries and broken shields.
Men were killed by spear and sword,
and carried to Odin's hall.

I know the winter hard and long
with days as dark as nights.
But every spring the lark sings
of commitment to the light.

It was Yule, the feast of midwinter.
In the hall it was Yule dance.
Men and women gathered there
With eyes of elated glances.

To the Yule feast I rode hastily
On slushy and snowy grounds.
My strong horse galloped swiftily
On dirty and muddy roads.

The witch came in the silent night,
and my sister came also to me,
fair and gentle and light,
and she song friendly.

The wise witch came after my strife,
she hardened my emotions.
She showed me the law of life:
Honour followed my hardships.