Hardrada of the North,
Hardrada of the East,
Hardrada commander of the Roman Elite,
Hardrada of the Danelaw,
In Yorkshire was slain.

Hard of rule the Varangian king,
That forsook the kingdom of Rome.
In the dusk of the age of the Norse raider kings,
Sought the fragments of Cnut's bloody crown.

Along the waters of N'eva, Ladoga and Volhov,
Came the Norseman, bowed by defeat.
The dark day of Stiklestad behind him,
To a Kyiv surrounded by foes.

No enemy of Rus' could subdue him,
He set sail for the frontiers of Rome,
From the river Euphrates, to the strait of Messina,
None could withstand his axe!

Hardrada of the North,
Hardrada of the East,
Hardrada commander of the Roman Elite,
Hardrada of the Danelaw,
In Yorkshire was slain,
The Last Raider King.

Stern, the judgement of Harald,
Upon the Arab lords of the east.
Betrayed by the Normans in Sicily,
His anger set Bulgaria aflame.

Yet an empress arose in Byzantium,
Who cast the Norseman in chains,
But the Viking's roots lay in plunder,
So with imperial gold he escaped.

No emperor of Rome could subdue him,
He set sail for the shores of home,
Through the chains of the Bosphorous to the cold Skagerrak,
No one could withstand his axe.

Ruthless, his kingdom returned to him,
From Orkney the longships set forth,
Northumberland, Yorkshire, all fell as he marched,
Southward to claim England's throne.

No Emperor nor Caliph could withstand him,
Finally he marched as king!
Yet no one can rule over destiny's yoke,
So here fell in barbarous rage