Mighty waves rise, high up into the skies, our dragonhead ploughs the sea on our way.
A strong wind bows as weÂre heading home, confident we gaze Ânto the waves!
WeÂre all ashure - in glory weÂll return...
The waves did call us out to leave, for honor and for war.
As our fleet of twenty ships set sails to leave the shore,
the north wind bows and filled our sails, time had come for us to leave!
And glorious weÂll all return - no need for the women to grieve!
Our sea snakes tremble in the sea, as the waves are rising high.
TheyÂre covered with blood, a gift to the gods, so safely we will all return.
The eastern wind, our sails he bends, so strong, almost teared our men away!
Through the foamy sea our helmsman brawled.
And as we tried to hold the oar, the sea in our ship crawled.
As forces of nature showed all of its strengh, we thought our end is near,
but suddenly the weakening wind soothed the sea and the mist disapeared.
No mighty waves rise, high up into the skies, a chill breeze now passes through our hair.
Out in the mist, we thought that weÂre lost, but yet it was not our time to die!
It was not our time to die...