[Music by Vidar and Herr Doktor, lyrics by Vidar]
O'er crimson moonlight, mirk Poets, lengthering Shadows
Revealed
dismay impurity hidden there,
In oestrus forest elegies, bloomed in twilight gray,
By sirens of Arkona, Slavon' Gods swore, never to
fade away...
Stillness impales me, throughout the years I've yearned,
For thy embrace, for shadows pure, Oeuvre pagan
mine,
Lurking with the caves of mist and lunar feeble shine
Preternaturally ambient like an aery lullaby...
Oaken God, thy
sword arise, With majesty to thee such own,
Thy folk shall never thee despise, like shall do Jesus f*****g Christ!
Remember them
when pagan fire, from skies in rains shall burn the holy soil.
Wrath... As the Statues Wooden were,
Arisen to life and with the
troops of pagas
New era was 'bout to begin
Now... For Volk and Heathen Race,
We, like the gods of human Thoughts
To Heavens
rise our Bows and Swords.
Ako Orol, ktory hniezdo svoje pred supmi chrani,
Tak i Hromovladca Perun, pohansku zem,
A hoc sam
uz minulost nenavratim,
Ja, v boji za narod, i zomriet hodlam pren...
Barefeet, wandering through the gardens of the
past,
Among the founts of long-forgotten lays,
With the sagas of the fallen leaves and tragedies the sunsets wrote
Shall witness
crucifixion of the Nazarene again!
Waterfalls they flow with different waters everytime,
But my pride remains unchanged with
every drop that passes
By my side, wishing I could rise my sword, to see the thunder
Striking 'bove the Perun's oaken
stand...
Roses of darkest colour, the embers flame devours,
The memory of the Dark-Age but still bright and free,
And though
the curtain untorn remains, I vow to thee,
That my faith for pagan race shall live eternally...
For Dark - Age
Philosophy
