On the slope of a naked rock somewhere in Skapinawjo
The isles of Skapis
A blonde, fur-clad man immortalises
His memory of Mannus
The oldest Ing

A large manlike shape is engraved in the rock
Bloodred in colour, with a large phallus
His hands are stretching toward the sky

Mannus, the son of Tuisto
Made sure his tribe survived the cold north
Together with his sons
Inguz, Herminuz and Istwo

Tuisto's heart is warmed by the sight of his descendants
He knows the gods are not forgotten
Then, he reasons, there is hope after all
For the coming generations