"Вьюга следы заметает"
Белыми гривами диких коней
Вьюга следы не спеша заметает;
Войско уходит дорогой теней,
Снег на холодных висках застывает.
Шлемы окрасит
Утренний свет,
Под серым небом,
Где нас уже нет.
Ветер тебе
Донесёт песнь мою,
Как славу себе
Добывали в бою.
Вздрогнет, летя, оперенье стрелы,
Меч промелькнёт голубым окоёмом,
Чтоб средь полей занесённых седых
Только на миг лишь повеяло домом.
Криком вороны, что пепла черней,
Воинов в новый их путь провожают.
Белыми гривами диких коней
Вьюга следы не спеша заметает.
"Blizzard Sweeps the Traces"
By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces,
The army is moving out by the road of shadows,
Snow is freezing on the cold temples
The morning light will colour the helmets,
Under an azure sky,
Where we exist no longer,
A zephyr will carry you my song,
Of how we gained glory in battle
The feathers of an arrow will quiver,
The sword will glare by blue contour,
Only to bring a fleeting feel of home,
On all these hoary fields
By the scream of a carrion crow, darker than cinders
The warriors move onwards on their new way
By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces.
"Blizzard covers traces"
By the white manes of wild horses
The blizzard slowly covers up the tracks;
The army is leaving the road of shadows,
Snow on cold temples freezes.
Helmets will paint
Morning light
Under a gray sky
Where we no longer exist.
Wind to you
Will carry my song
As glory to myself
Obtained in battle.
The plumage of the arrow will tremble, flying,
The sword will flash with a blue eye,
So that among the fields of gray-haired
Only for a moment it just smelled like home.
The cry of a crow that is blacker ashes,
The soldiers are escorted to their new path.
By the white manes of wild horses
The blizzard slowly covers up its tracks.
"Blizzard Sweeps the Traces"
By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces,
The army is moving out by the road of shadows,
Snow is freezing on the cold temples
The morning light will color the helmets,
Under an azure sky,
Where we exist no longer,
A zephyr will carry you my song,
Of how we gained glory in battle
The feathers of an arrow will quiver,
The sword will glare by blue contour,
Only to bring a fleeting feel of home,
On all these hoary fields
By the scream of a carrion crow, darker than cinders
The warriors move onwards on their new way
By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces.
