When darkness comes and the Night begins
The enemies prepare to hunt and sin
For Ancient Glory of Pagan Past
Our spirit of war will arise
Connected by virtue to woods and rivers
We spent our lives near darkest shores
We keep our arms as symbol of fight
No one can conquer our land tonight.
The land of dark woods and waters of pure
We swear to save your richness for sure
The enemy will act strong, brutal and fast
In strength of soul and sword we trust
When darkness comes and the Night begins
The enemies prepare to hunt and sin
We keep our arms as symbol of fight
No one can conquer our land tonight.
Òûñÿ÷è êîïèé, Ãu00adàïðàâëåÃu00adÃu00adûõ ê ñîëÃu00adöó, çàòìèâ åãî ñâåò, (ïàóçà)
Îáðàòèëè äåÃu00adü â Ãu00adî÷ü
Áëåñê ñòàëè ìîëÃu00adèåé ïðîÃu00adçàåò Ãu00adåáî
ÒåÃu00adè ìèðà óÃu00adîñÿòñÿ ïðî÷ü
ÏðèÃu00adåñåÃu00adÃu00adûå â æåðòâó áîãó âîéÃu00adû
Ýõîì îòçîâåòñÿ âîèÃu00adñòâåÃu00adÃu00adûé êëè÷!
Clatters of horses, gnashing of metal
Fury in eyes feed a roaring Battle

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