Вова Бирагов - Осетины
текст песни

Other people's banners hide darkness, the enemy is preparing a campaign
And the Scythian to the fire in the ear whispers something, the akinak sharpens
Only strong will survive, such is the harsh world of the Aryans
Media was defeated, lost by the Cimmerians.
These mountains were a fortress for us over and over again
These rivers was washed from the blood of a spear of Batraza
This soil shuddered, UASTRIS WARRY FLOW
Scythian cavalry rushes in a narrow gorge
Brushing the peak, leads her three -handed Madia
The horse snorts and tears the soil to drum sounds
The battle mixes the Battle of the blood Slove the sky cloud
He will meet with his chest proudly under a hail of guns
How a leopard rushes for a steep cliff for prey
He values ​​his life, but to survive he decides
On the risk of breaking on a cliff, leave blood pattern
That the rains will not be blurred will not erase the horses of the Huns.
Let Timur cool the shift and murder here.
Let the Mongol skins rushed here in the blood of the Ossetian
Let all the towers are destroyed -dust and ruins have developed,
We are still breathing Ossetian

...chorus
The gods chose us from pollut steel
In the turbulent rivers, Tsya Mountains tempered
Bars' spirit, wisdom raven
On the dagger, the bloodstream is the path of a warrior!

But in those places where life is a lodge,
Where is the Barsaga wheel jumping
Where is the plot of the Syrdon,
Kuts the swords of Kurydalægon
Here the mountains are proudly eager up!
Æfsati looks menacingly down,
Here the rumor is cute ringing
In winter, Orion is visible to us.

Targitai lived at the threshold of the Scythian era
He raised three sons from the spirit of steel, strong faith
In what our ancestors have been carried in themselves for centuries
Those principles that are now faded now
Those laws that we overthrew.
Three objects-gods fell from the sky
Each symbol of the family, the basis of the universe
Three castes: a bowl-muddy, sword--isla, plow-work.
Choose, the path will begin here.
And Arpaxay came out, Targita son of the eldest
"The priest lives in me" -sitates a bowl over his head,
Ardaxai lifted without words and took his hands a sacred sword
And Sanaxi took that fertile plow on his shoulders.

.chorus

Everyone should honor the legacy and blood of a kind,
To carry a culture proudly, their people
The roots hold a tree, stronger every year,
But man is a fool, such is his nature.
Than to sing and observe the ancient canons of ancestors
He with a grin on his face waves his hand at this.
How to instill in another your views and concepts
He will absorb everything that rings and sparkles
Grandfathers sang to us songs in childhood about the heroes of the past
And the sledges and the UAIges, about evil and good.
Be brave as exiled and modest as ACAMAZ
Be a man and there it doesn’t matter you a shepherd or a prince
Law alone -no reason do not touch anyone,
But if you touched you, then punish strictly
In a cruel world, cruelly, two eyes per eye
Only this is what the villains understand a little.
The stern land is raising us, there is no place for weakness,
Clang fangs, opened from all sides
Those passed when the Caucasus appreciated the laws
They now confuse the rules under the yoke of money.
Be careful brother, keep a dagger in a scabbard
Children in this world are now victims too ..
Srighted with gunpowder, the Circassian shirt,
And like all living things, we will invariably turn to dust!