On each summer solstice we weave the great iron tie Between the past, the present, the future of our tribe The older tell us the wars from the past In the embered shining of the flames And we listen to their words like the young wolves of a pack Nothing is more personal, now than the songs, Whispered by the spirits of our ancestors.
What can a few souls which burn in the mighty sun of the solstice Against the despair that our modern world raises in our hearts?
But testify of what used to be, to be actual, to emphasize on our traditions To ensure that future is maybe not condemned...
Communion in the shining light of our fires and in the recovered sun Symphony of our pagan souls with mother earth Presence of the culture of European nations Living in osmosis with the eternal cycles of life We were just a fistful, one day we will be an army Nights in Europe will be red because of our solstice's fires Which will enlighten the millions of children with pagan hearts Who will bring the light of their hope to the ancient gods We're the seed carried through the ages We wear the eternal fire, we are the sons of mother earth
The sun will rise again
What can a few men lost in the great night with their torches, But set the world on fire and awake honour and true values? Keep on the fight for our identity with proud stresses The sun will come with us in the fight for the revival of our tribes We are the seeds carried by the forest's wind Lost in the sickening mists of our modern times The flame mus still burn into our hearts We will wear it 'till eternity...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
