enslaved now
To the will of Chernobog!

Today is the day when spirit is triumphant
Lutobor is the god for me
And the cross is denied
And the world is denied
Demons I will conjure with my own hands today

As the witches' folk started to dance,
They chant:
"Today you will burn, jesus,
And your beard we will tear away
And the Mary whore
We will "praise" today too

In the fires!
In the stake!
Burn the filth of icons!"

Between three swords - blood boils black
In the blood is wine, in the wine is fire
The evilteethed devil, he came,
To judge all around
With his cruel court.


Did-Dub-Snop
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

In the depths of forest thickets
Among the ancient firs
To the voices of the centuries gone
In the dreadful silence I hark...

"Rod - Thou art the
Father of all gods,
To thee we sing Glory again

Rod - Thou art of all gods,
The whole of the Earth
Rod - what once was
Rod - what will be forever!

Rod - gave birth to Himself
Rod - created the Earth

Glory! Glory!
Glory to our God!

Hail! Hail to thee,
Perun - the goldenhaired God!
He, who throws
The thunder-arrows
Into our enemies hosts
He who brings the faithful ones
Towards the Victory
Glory we sing to Him always -
At the feast and in the battle too.

Hail! Hail to thee,
Svarog - the celestial blacksmith!
He, the father of Universe,
He, the eternal guardian.
And when our time will come to die
He will meet us on the
Heavenly meadows"

In the fog of ghastly woods -
Songs of ancient pagan temples.
Gods of our Forefathers
Slumber there until their hour
Will come again...

Wintry Reveries
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

Where the firs in their eternal dream
Guard the cursed forest
Often I hear the ghastly whisper
Under the veil of midnight skies.

There the spirits silently dance
In the dead of enchancing night
With them, with them,
Through the mists I soar
To meet the Moon so cold.

And in the depth of the dark wood
Blizzards sing their magic songs.
In the ancient forest temple.

The witch and the raven
From the falling snow
Weave the net of sorcery...

And this wind, it wails and cries,
Like the souls of the dead shout
In the snowy crowns of these ancient wizard-oaks
Among the grim images of the ancient Gods.


Glorification of the Fallen
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

The face of firehaired Chors
Have enlighted the Earth
While the shadow of the oaken grove
Dimed my death...

So, fly as the flame-winged bird,
Move apart, the sacred fire,
Chant louder your hymns,
The grandsons of Stribog,
While you will carry away
My ashes all over the land.

Bards will glorify
The fallen warriors,
They will sing you the sagas
About us.
But I will travel to the Heavenly Palace of Svarog now.
I, the one who gave his own life
For our land...


The Prince of the Sacred Silence
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

The sacred groves,
In silence they stand
Well hidden from the greedy eye
In the fogs lying thick
Over the Bare Mountain.

But the lakes slumbering in mist,
And these sorrowful pines -
They all still remember
The ancient dreadful
Glory of Chernobog,
And his mysteries are still kept
By these grim woods.

Oh, for how long will he remain in his dreams,
Wandering in the visions and on his Black Throne?
When will he come back,
The ruler of the devils' sonm,
The Lord of forests, where silence reigns forever?


``...In the Crowns of ancient Oaks...``
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

In the crowns of ancient oaks
The wind is crying silent...
Among the rainy clouds yet to thunder
The face of Perun is grim.

Stars are falling from the sky
And the moon, it shines weak...
Those russian men, who denied the cross,
Will they ever find their home once again?

The greedy hands of the jew -
In filth they dressed Rus'
And the lying tongue of christ -
Twisted the minds of the folk.

The images of the true Gods
Were drowned in the rivers
And the proud druids and sorcerers -
They all were murdered by the betrayers.

Where are you now -
The armies of Perun,
Those, who were faithful
Until their death?
Drunk with blood
They all sleep in these houses of snow.

The wolf and black raven
Sing the lullabies to them,
And the sorrowful rays of moon
Light the pale faces of the Pagan warriors.

On the bitter wind of sorrow
Flying above the fields of battle
On the black wings of mourning
Two sisters Zhelya and Karna.

And the song of the maiden-swans
Is heard all around the Russian Land
And the strings of all lires are torn
The whistles cry everywhere...

But I forsee the day
When the crosses will burn
When priests won't find any mercy
Even in the churches of their "god".

Then the hymns to the ancient Gods
Will be sung again.
And the russian people will spit
In the lying eyes of the crucified jew.


From the melted snows thou shalt ask our names...
(translation from russian, written on the original booklet)

My ancient Rus',
Your sad songs,
And your sorrow, I know
Is hidden in these crystal lakes.

Forests so thick
Snows so deep
Where the legends forgotten
Breath again.

Rivers so cold
Woods are eternal
Where in twilight
Ancient Pagan temples are hidden.

Distances so unsightful,
Nights so obscure,
The ghosts of the past,
Sad silent shadows.

Their forgotten names are turned
Into the melted snows
Into the streams of Slavonic blood
So pure and red.

Into the endless snowfalls,
Into the winds so cold,
Into the frost so cruel,
Into the ancient fears...
Eternally...