Wolfkrieg - Легенда О Олеге Вещем
текст песни

There are Viking hammers of the thunder of the gods
Eagles drive lead clouds,
And the crows of Odin are looking for their blood
In the middle of the Huslyar Vis in the canopy of the trees are dense.

Where the north obstructing winds sings,
The sea shaft of blood will never cool down
There is Rurika in Swara flights
Blutters and thunderstorms are rushing.

Glory and honor are born in lightning,
Urman princes have a cream share -
Eastrally carry the powerful news,
Gardariki, store valor on the throne.

Let Sineus and Truvor fall for a long time,
And with the ash left the wasps of the corpse of the breadwinner,
He in your hand put the verdict,
Iron of upcoming achievements, seeing.

From the blood of the horseman blood, the bowl by the genus,
Nice salt is poured to the wounds,
You carry a punishing sword of governors,
So that the kingdom of Dir and Askold is found into Hel.

Let it be in the word Kenugard's firmament
As a mother for hails, villages and Niv,
To which the formidable Yolmgard
Under the light of Valkyrie, Silkizif went.

With a finger of the princes of power that rallied peoples,
The unions of the tribes mired in squabbles,
Vienna's father in chervon waters
Sharmed the hosts of dirty Khazar banners.

The Slovene, Drevlyans and Rus stepped
Yes, by will, the stigts saddled the horses,
So that the canvas of the abuse of the traction of the cargo
From the Vevers given to the rabble of animals.

In a single impulse, their hails and weights
Fire wings of a dispute of haral blades,
Varangian virgins woven a song
Fields of oxamit revenge of wolf regiments.

Lead to the mixed of the seas of a chariot,
Dragging to the fear of the vassals of Christ,
The storm rushes for the violent north,
The flame of fanning the cleansing of the fire.

The one who is cherished by the winged shelom,
The one who was nourished from the spear of Ostra,
In the armor of the pincers is chained,
Sowing the heat of death with a sword and fire.

Having created troubles and grief and grief,
You burned to the ground temples of alien gentlemen,
Baidan is not sparing, with a fatal fate in a quarrel,
There was a shield to nail over the gate gate.

The leader of the soldiers prophetic, who rejected the Greek
Lies with poisonous sides and wine,
The path of treachery along the vague eyelid
The sorcerer rushed proudly, taking a lot on the brow.

The lion himself generously sprinkles the squad of the coin,
Where the sail is codrine, where from pavolok,
Vendian kmets take plenty of tribute
Living, those who folkwang shares the damn.

Despising the ink weakness, fighting only with the strong,
I am not used to changing the boots on bast shoes
But the threads of fate are not the seven -mini,
And the magi knew that, and enemies were waiting.

The cost of the features of the knight,
You asked the wise prophecies,
The destruction is the seas of Ali Vezhi,
Sekira, an arrow or a vile dagger.

But the wizard said bizarre speech,
The earth will not take blood in furious straightforces,
Viking's chest does not squeeze Fierce Sich,
But you will meet death from your native horse.

Hidden by blanket, your friend is lonely
Went to the best world on the grass at the sterment,
Then the vira for faith in the blasphemy line,
After all, he lived to the healthy gray hair.

With a grin, remembering the wolf prediction,
Ingvar with Helg in longing approached the Dnieper,
But here, the snake was languishing in exile,
I attacked, only he stepped onto the skull.

Let the battle of the ash, one, into the monastery,
Everything is brave and mortal, but you yourself know -
Sung by the scald Varangian
Sounds the nida of the storm of Valhalla to the enemies.