Brede seil over Nordsjø går [English translation]

Broad sails move across the Northern sea

High on the poop in the morning stands

Erling Skjalgsson from Sole

Gazes out across the sea towards Denmark

"Isn´t Olav Trygvason coming?

Fiftysix dragons* lie bobbing in the water

The sails were lowered, towards Denmark they looked

Sunburned men, then the cry rose:

"where is the long serpent**?

Isn´t Olav Trygvason coming?

But when the sun on the second day

Rose from the sea with no mast in sight

The cry rose to a storm:

"where is the long serpent*?

Isn´t Olav Trygvason coming?

Silently, silently at the same moment

Every man stood up, for from the bottom of the sea

A sigh sloshed in the waters surrounding the fleet:

"The long serpent is captured,

Olav Trygvason has fallen"