Oh, the sky cries with tears
he sprays the Alatir stone
Khors snoozes in the sunset
in the battle with the Perun's army.
The bright eyes died out,
This is not a dream in the Svarog's night
A fallen warrior does not know
that his sould ascends to the svarga.
That the stones whispers us
recumbents in the sacred barrows, they remember the past.
How the world died fighting with the wolfs of a foreign prophet.
How fallen the images of the Gods in the sacred blood
Under the foreign prophet's banner of the cross.
We will rise our face
¡As the great, to the victory!
Great Rus' you will not save with the fear
I swear rebel as my ancestors' ashes
Svarog! Hear you the glorious descendants' voice?
The descendants of the justs are alive, we preserve the origin
The wild Cuckoo cries fairly
That girl lets fall her tears
Oh, do not cry darling
that warrior's heart is not with us.
Rise your bright eyes
You see the ancestors in the dark night
Like the brighter star,
The glorious will be with you!