Gnev Vremen - Arkona traduction en anglais

Gnev Vremen

Dreva ston,
Obraz bogov v ochah.
Lik vremen vnov probuzhdaet strah.
Teni teh, chto snizoshli v kurgan.
Zhivy v nas, vtoryat o pravde nam.
Probudis plemya, chto dremlet zdes.
K Svarge vvys, da voznesetsya pesn.
Pesn vetrov gromkiy potomkov glas.
Bog-otec Rod, da uslyshit nas!

V kaple dozhdya
Nezrimoe proshloe rvetsya izvne
Dyhaniem vechnyh pobed.
Taitsya v nadezhde.
Skvoz ston materey, skorbyaschih za zemlyu ushedshih detey,
My vidim sie vozrozhdene vo mrake kromeshnom.

Geroev zemli obrechennoy
Chi liki uhodyat v veka
V obyatie tmy oblachennyh
Prinosyat s soboy oblaka.

Vrazhey krovyu omoy
Mech, chto rvetsya v lyutyy boy!

Dreva ston, ston iz glubin vekov.
Gnev vremen vnov prizovet Bogov.
Gimn voyny bratyam moim vospet.
Gromkiy klich pomnit otec-rassvet.
Probudis plemya, chto dremlet zdes.
K Svarge vvys, da voznesetsya pesn.
Pesn vetrov, gromkiy potomkov glas.
Bog otec, Rod, da uslyshit nas!

V kaple dozhdya
Nezrimoe proshloe rvetsya izvne
Dyhaniem vechnyh pobed.
Taitsya v nadezhde.
Skvoz ston materey, skorbyaschih za zemlyu ushedshih detey.
My vidim sie vozrozhdene vo mrake kromeshnom.

Wrath of Ages

Ancient tree sighs,
Gods' faces in your eyes.
The image of the ages rekindles fear once again.
Shadows of those who descended into the burial mound.
Live in us, echoing the truth to us.
The tribe that slumbers here shall awaken.
To Svarga on high, our song shall ascend.
A fierce song of the wind, the voice of our descendants.
Father god Rod, hear us!

In a raindrop
The invisible past bursts forth from without
With the breath of eternal victories.
It conceals in hope.
Through the lament of mothers, grieving for their children lost to the earth.
In the dark abyss, we see this rebirth.

Of heroes of the doomed land,
Whose faces fade into the ages,
Clothed in the embrace of the shadows,
They bring with them clouds.

With blood of enemies, I wash
The blade that leaps into furious battle!

Ancient tree sighs, a sigh from the depths of ages.
The wrath of ages shall summon the Gods once again.
Hymn of war, sung to my brothers.
A mighty cry, remembered by the father-dawn.
The tribe that slumbers here shall awaken.
To Svarga on high, our song shall ascend.
A fierce song of the wind, the voice of our descendants.
Father god Rod, hear us!

In a raindrop
The invisible past bursts forth from without
With the breath of eternal victories.
It conceals in hope.
Through the lament of mothers, grieving for their children lost to the earth.
In the dark abyss, we see this rebirth.