The Funeral Wind Born In Oriana

The Blood is in Wolf Footprint

The Hunter Has Won His Hunger

His Howling Is Heard In The Night

Among The Mist And The Moonlight

The Sound Of The Huge Trembita

Is Echoed Away From The Carpathians

We Announce The Funerals

To The Still Alive World

Coming From The Boreal Land

We Won many nations

We Are Everywhere, We Are The

Children Of Silver

Now We Are Trumping To Have The Last Victory

The Cries Of Ravens

The Howling Of Wolves

We Are The Keepers Of The Fire

Which Will Burn Down The heavens

The Trumpets Are Singing

And With The Rhythm Of The Drums

We Are Stepping Down On This World

It Was Sold To The sly nation

It Will Die Together With them

Only The Ravens Flying In The Sky

Can See All Of Us

They Are The Only Ones To See Our Army

Our Fighting Spirit And Faces Of Hatred

In The Ancient Land Of Oriana

We Will Gather Together Again

And Our Power Has Multiplied Into Thousand

We Are Ready To Fight Against judeo christianity!

We Have The Silver Moon Power In Our Hands

We Have The Rage Of Millions Of Fire In Our Eyes

We Have The Demons' Hatred In Our Hearts

We Have The Pain Of Our Ancient

Fathers In Our Souls