I have been riding where sand is whipping In sunlight's punishing brutal force We Ebodalo are shaped by gripping Bow and arrow and mane of horse For by the silkroad, no life is sacred For it is ridden by warring bands Each tribe is hungry, each man is watchful Each lung tormented by soot and sand ♪ When our Atland by sea was taken We wanted life where no ocean lied The Gobi Desert dwelled still, forsaken The Hyperboreans thither flied But still my mind and my heart doth wander To good old Atland and the Nordic air Compelling memories drives me to ponder Upon a voyage to take us there ♪ "Alas, we dwell here", the Hephthalite cried In a world of danger and bitter toil By sword and bow by the mountains steep side Whilst desert wind scourge the barren soil One day our horses shall bear our brothers And our sons to the Arctic night With hun and crow folk and all the others Who doth lament like the Hephthalite