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