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I await the twilight, the end of the diurnal sphere.
The light behind the shadows of the night.
He closes his eye, and behold the world.
On his throne of frost.
Thy Gift, His ravens awakes and fly high to reach the chorus of the Elders...
as divine voices of the unlight... as the cry of the dark skies.
Cursed Christianity will pay!
Demonized by the foreign God in the body of the Ojancanu.
Condemned to wander through our forests,
through centuries... WRATH!
I see the moonlight... I feel the mist of nocturnal freeze
Dreams and nightmares became the same.
Why this embodiment of falseness?
Never forgive the enemies of our beliefs.

Too much hate to forget their lies.
Too much concentrate anger for their God.
Rise high the banners, with pride!
In memory of our ancestors.

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