Cry To Me, A River...
Endless Path of Legends
Engraving in leaves the veins galdrastafr,-
Shalt paint in crimson, - not sparing the golden glare…
Shalt cover in fog, hiding the mud slush,-
And be drowned in cold drops of rain
Howling, it shalt bring the fury of blizzards,
Winds haughty storming as beasts…
Shalt cloach in ice, strewing by hoarfrost,-
Concealing the leaves runearcanes in snow…
Shalt furtively force it’s way by the green of first grass,
Flowing the stream of molten snow,
Reading the epistle of winter…
Spring, it shall comprehend all that was hidden,
All that was left on the darkened leaves,
Then shalt describe it by the pattern of sprouts…
Shalt cover by leaves, bury under the trees crowns,-
And carry on…
With farewell it shalt tell, shalt whisper by winds,-
And sing to the autumnal mists…
Where the Peace And Calm Were Immortalized
Soundless grey of the thunderstorm clouds,
Reflecting in mirror of swamp,
Gifted the splashes of heatlightnings to Earth,
Enraptured by the silence of forest
Gusts of the wind penetrated to where
Only the leaves falling was rustling
Halls of moss were scalded by sorrow
In quiet swamps desolation
Breaking the silence – thunder was roar
Acclaiming the storm arrival
Standing benumbed, the wood became dumb,
Awaiting the first raindrop ringing…
With a rumble of hundreds of thousands stones
The water momentary started to flow forth…
Bursting with storming blizzard,
Wind crushed the secular oblivion
Gushing in torrents, the downpour fell,
Sweeping away the bliss of calm
Storming was roaring, howling wild,
Burying the former unhurriness
…Where are roots now? Where are crowns of trees?
Their web pattern is everywhere now
Where the peace and calm were immortalized –
Only chaos, ruins and devastation remained…
Hoarfrost of Blood
In the rays of rising Sun
The veil of ice is redden
It strewed and chained by coldness
And weaved on the web of dreams
Hoarfrost of Blood is glimmering, sparkling,
It melts, scattering by crimson ashes
By the bloody scabs it clotting,
Blackening, growing dim, disappearing in dust
How much blood was shed upon this land,
That snow became of the dawn color?
Forefathers returned to heirs the Heroes Blood
For they arise – the Defenders Hordes!
… (Elders) gave a sign to stand in ranks, to
Sharpen the swords, preparing for fight
For the snowstorms of gore bury the enemies,
For the rivers be filled with blood of the foes!
It’s time for banners to sing on the wind now,
Time for standarts to inhale the Freedom
It’s time for the Aryan Spirit to rise,
To fill the veins with Hoarfrost of Blood!
Let fury make hands to grasp in fists
And wolfish roar shall seethe in throat
Strike by strike – our foes shall fall
Step by step – we shall cleanse the battlefield!
And all this – is Our Land !
Our Native Land !
This is Fatherland, yours and mine, -
Always remember that!
Glorious be in ages, forever alive, -
My Land! My Ukraine !
Fatherland, in all the world only one –
Free, Mighty, Great, Ancient
From forefathers- Ancestors inherit it was
To the descendants – heirs
Slavonic Land given to us
By the Fathers – Gods
Sea and rivers, lakes and ponds,
Oaken woods and immense steppes,
Blue skies and bright sun,
Shimmering stars, their sorrowful light
It imbued throughout by
The Slavonic Spirit and Blood –
Guard thy Native Land,
Like a mother, ‘tis only one!
Remind thy glorious Ancestors that died,
Those warriors that defended this Land
With sword in hand!
By all my heart
I greet all the Great Heroes
Who sacrificed their life
In the name of Native Land
Their memory lives eternally!
Glory to Heroes!
Glorious be, my Native Land!
Carpathian Mountains covered by mighty forests
And by the foggy wood paths,
Singing of birds and silence of nights –
I shalt remember all this ‘til I die!>
Like a tear, moon glare is clear,
Burial mounds, Dnipro, and rapids thundering,
Thou art adorned by the flowers and rain…
Glorious be, Native Land!
Gnarled Cudgels of Thunder
The hearse cloth weaved of rain
Is coldening by mist of twilight
By the grey grim shroud
It shall flow from the skies
Grandeur of clouds started to rush
Tearing out to the fragments
Deadly struck down into the ground
Gnarled Cudgels of Thunder
Unstoppable rage of lightning
Flashed by the cold shine
By the silver axe fiercely
Cleaving the expanse of air
Gnarled Cudgels of Thunder
Broke, crushed into pieces
The crucifixion above the Ancient Heathen Sanctuary, -
Leaving the ashes only…
Shame of dust be washed away by rain
From the bloody scars of Land
That was struck! Struck! Struck!
By the Gnarled Cudgels of Thunder
But yet the rain tears can’t wash out
The disgrace of christian domination
And years of pain wouldn’t be crushed
By the Perun’s Gnarled Cudgels!
Cry To Me, A River... (betrayal of knjaz volodymir)
Cry To Me, River,
Tell me about the days of ancient times,
About what thou saw long time ago-
Tell by the whispering of thy drops
Bring by the waves to Nothingness
Resounds of battles where one raised his sword
Against his brother
In murmur of tide voices are heard:
Who dishonored his Ancestors names?
Who destroyed our Ancient Faith?
Who gave the Slavonic Land
Into enemies’ clutch?
“Miserable descendant of the Great Knjaz,
worthless son of Svjatoslav,-
fratricide, apostate of Faith,
Named “saint” for his betrayal!”
Who built the churches
Upon our Sacral Ground?-
That herd trembled of fear,
When Knjaz Svjatoslav nailed His shield
To the Constantinopolis gates!
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