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To Vinland
Foamy necked waves break o'er the shoal
Racing to wash, granite toothed beach
Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks
Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand
The land ever waits, patient and hard
Always unchanged, uncaring, still
Beckoning those, who hear the call
Find me, find me, I lie in wait
Oaken sea steed, dances in mist
Crossing whale way, gull road taken
Into sunset, onward to West
Driven to prove, tales of new land
Ship's crew sings out, words to the sky
Odin, Aegir, Thor speed our way
Trust in the Gods, and strength of back
Steersman holds board, sets a true course
Long are the nights, longer the days
Grey backed swells, endlessly same
Evening stars bright, lead ever on
Darkened sky sheep, cloud gift fills kegs
Noise comes to ear, watcher hears roar
Breakers tumbling, whispering birds
Fading mist lifts, sight to behold
Lowslung land dark, o'ertopped with green
Beyond the beach, river's mouth gapes
Calling the crew, travel this way
Longship slips in, trout home to wend
Pull to the bank, landsmen again
Uneasy heads, fitfully rest
Dreaming a dream, unproven land
Unproven folk, unproven wealth
Unproven Gods, unproven Fate
Wake to the dawn, Sun smiling warm
Heavy branched trees, round fragrant lea
Firs like at home, and grasses too
Eagle's shrill cry, splits morning calm
Sights to behold, richness of beasts
Branch antlered stag, bushy tailed squirrel
Trees of strange hue, flowers not known
Wild grapes found, Vinland is named
Old crewman dies, tree falls awry
Grave hole is dug, then mound is raised
Kin bones in earth, strange place no more
Witnessed by death, Land Bond is made
Timber and fur, fruit, fish, and drink
Ship is laden, cargo for home
East points the prow, foam trail behind
Trackless travel, wooden hull glides
Tales of new land, rumor no more
Place now to go, homesteads to build
Wealth to be had, cargoes to gain
Hofs to hallow, children to bear
Long the years pass, many ships sail
From many lands, head to the West
Making a Home for Kin and Kith
Seeking ever frontiers to tread
Foamy necked waves break oer the shoal
Racing to wash, granite toothed beach
Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks
Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand
The land ever waits, patient and hard
Always unchanged, uncaring, still
Beckoning those, who hear the call
Find me, find me, I lie in wait
© Stefn Ullarsson Piparskeggr
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