Текст песни Вяча - Последние Язычники

The Last Pagans

Not hearing the rumble, not leaving the field
Not smelling gunpowder, not believing in the Lord
From mouth to mouth compose old ramifications
About muddy whirlpools and the sun is bright

The heel of the beauty is moistened with dew
Ancient rites do not boast about themselves
Yes, disobedient gods believing
The sorcerers did not know when trouble would come

The trouble came with the sword of the terrible covenant
Inspired to believe in the One Lord
Illuminated with a cross, they drove into the river
And the evil drag of Perun rolled down the mountain

And the trace from the idol is like a crack in the heart
Others cried, others imagined
Thunder, now the raging wind
That cry Makosh, then Lesha's dances

And the unbaptized sided
They carried idols in the bosom with them
Weaved braids, knitted corollas
And the wild songs have been watered with dew for centuries
Jingle
Ringing the jingle ...

They drove the pagans to a rotten lake
Cold-tongued frosts of autumn
Partially new trail
Under the tambourine leather those songs are folded ...
Our songs are folded
/ spring 1992. /