Monuments Of The Elder Faith

Monuments of the elder faith

...among gales and lightnings

...among vampires burning fears reflections

Angry eagle's gaze watches

In above a nocturnal sun sows with rays

Covered with coat of wings - we go as the shadows of ancestors

Eagle's heart gives the rythm to primaeval rites

Where circles of monuments of the elder faith

Here follows blazing dawn - for awaking pantheon

Here follows blazing dawn - the spark to aryan hearts

Burning the battlefields by day

And permeating the cold steel of weapon with the mirror of night

Here follows blazing dawn - for awaking pagan bosom

...for countless are births for superhuman dimension...

...monuments of elder faith

Wrapped by mystical sense of light

Infectiously directing the chosen ones

We watch the more and more genuine vestiges

Turning to one, the runes of life and war

When maternal appeal will assume an animal instinct

The old trees will protectively bend their boughs

Born on pagan tree of life - born from wolf's pack

Born on the border of life and death

Born for an eternal idea

Among the walls of time, hiding timeless empire

Among the crests, welding the sky with the earth

Among the mist, waving between two suns

We run, tearing the horizons as the blasphemous comet

Aryan gods bewitched into cyclical movement of stars

Aryan gods bewitched in the monuments of elder faith

By the circular path of gammadion

The fog falls from the mountains, and the water in the lakes

Diquieting looses its shine

We put on the hoods, sticking the sword of wrath into the cross

We open the gates to aryan rites

Among chaos and pest of unfamiliar creeds

Tending the wisdom chanted in the runes

We burn deceitful dwarfs of history

We protect the heritage of ancestors

Tending in heart the solar wisdom

We wake up with fiery dawn - honour and hate!

Among fluttering banners

Proudly looking up to fiery crescent

We pay the homage - with the heroic right hand

On the cross-roads, trodden by battle rage

Where the blood and bowels flow on the sacrifical stones

We kill in the name of the sanctity of blood

We kill in the name of the sacred land - the mother, which had born us

And kept carying, waiting for us to be ready

To throw us into the turmoil of war elements when the blood were flowing on hands

Heart was beating in the volcanic rythm - we were greeting the gods of war

Asking them to our insane feast