The formidable rocks are crushed with waves, which loudly roaring.
And by white foam, they emidiately run back.
But the hard gray cliffs endure the pressure of the waves strong,
Above sea staying.
From the rocks of those stone we, the Varangians, have bones,
From that wave of the sea, the blood went into us.
And the thoughts-mystery from the mists feed on. We were born in the sea,
We will die there too.
Swords are damask, arrows are sharp among the all Varangians,
They inflict death without a miss on every enemy,
Brave are the people of chilly midnight countries,
Great is their Odin god,
The sea is gloomy.