You who covered the forests with a cloak of lightning,
You who feed your children with the wind,
You aroused a sea of u200bu200bhatred in their minds,
Like the Baltic Sea on its shores, you covered the sacred groves...
The old oaks bowed their backs,
The lightning, holy fire finishes the dance...
The trees fall silent, the strigoi bow their heads towards the sky,
The waiting naked wolves...
Sweetness I feel your warmth and warmth getting closer,
You are my mother's womb and strength,
Earth, forest, field, meadow, grove...
The essence of life, the magic that lives.
Darkness calls you those for whom you are an enemy,
a lost sheep, a snake, death in fear,
The arms of brave warriors carry your statue upwards,
You spat on the cross, not heresy but the truth!
The old oaks bowed their backs in obeisance...
Let the thunder be your herald,
the dawn of the waiting empire in glory,
A bell beaten into pagan hearts,
The altar of truth, pride and covered with blood.
Let Thunder announce your coming,
The hour of revenge, divine despair,
new, powerful times will come,
The Pomeranian forests roar about your strength...
Majestically...
The old oak trees bowed their backs in obeisance...