| Flocks of winter birds rushed off into the distance,
|
| The smoke drove them away faster than foxes,
|
| Smoke floated over the whole earth.
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| The fierce rabble threw a feast with a mountain,
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| Where is the warrior who will shout to them - stop!
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| The West rolled in a wave to the East,
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| On the backs and on the heart of the cross,
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| The spears of the Teutons aimed at the Sun,
|
| The smell of burning carried black news.
|
| Owl, Wolf and Eagle made fun of the game,
|
| Chuya emitted Russian blood,
|
| All evil spirits promised help
|
| Master and Order of Dogs.
|
| At the altars the saints weep
|
| The alarm is buzzing,
|
| The hour of battle has already been appointed,
|
| Oh it will be hell.
|
| Thrice hell, but not one step back.
|
| The stars will show the warrior the way,
|
| He hastily saddles his horse,
|
| The heart froze, the will woke up,
|
| He is in battle for three nights, three days.
|
| And the slave's collar knocks out of his hands
|
| At the Master, and the ice floes are cracking,
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| For the snow-covered gold of will
|
| The warrior strikes without sparing the sword.
|
| At the altars the saints weep
|
| Though the enemy is broken and crushed,
|
| One horse jumps back
|
| It was pitch hell, thrice hell,
|
| The warrior is crucified on spears.
|
| Now his destiny is to walk like a shadow
|
| And, hearing the howling of dogs, sharpen the sword again.
|
| He knows no fear, eternal rest,
|
| Everything will turn to dust, but not him.
|
| So much water has flown under the bridge since then
|
| The seas have turned into a mirage
|
| The shadow of a silent warrior passes
|
| On the shore, like a devoted guard.
|
| A warrior wanders all night, lights fires,
|
| Looking for the Prince and his brothers,
|
| Looking for the gold of will that was mined
|
| In that battle, knee-deep in blood.
|
| The path through the stars is again marked,
|
| And the alarm is buzzing again,
|
| At the altars the saints weep
|
| And the warrior descends into hell, a living hell.
|
| But not a step back.
|
| But not a step back.
|
| Flocks of winter birds rushed off into the distance ... |