The river was in the grip of frost
And now it makes the way to our hearts
By the light of stars the domes of the Swedish tents are seen
As if monsters standing along the shore
You have intruded on our ground, but cannot seize it
Even as nature declares the war
The wind will carry away the sounds of our steps from the ears of the guards.
The foliage of the trees will hide us
The moonlit sky will show us a way to victory
The horned knights will not escape
A Hand squeezes a sword until it hurts
Nobody will resist his force
È âîò çàïåë ðîæîê ,íà÷àëî áèòâû âîçâåùàÿ,
À âáëåä çà íèì õîð îáòðûõ áòðåë, õîëîäíûé âîçäóõ ðàááåêàÿ,
Ëåòÿùèõ íà âðàãà,ïåáíü ýòó ïîäõâàòèë,
Íà áìåðòü êðîâàâóþ èõ äóøû îáðåêàÿ.
"Êòî á ìå÷îì ê íàì âîéäåò,îò ìå÷à è ïîãèáíåò!"
Òîïîò ðàçúÿðåííûõ ëîøàäåé,êàê áàðàáàííûé ãðîì,
Áåçæàëîáòíî íî÷íóþ òèøèíó ðàçðóøèë,
Ñìèíàÿ ïîä áîáîé òåëà è çàãëóøàÿ áîëè áòîí
Îí ïåáíþ áìåðòè íà ãîëîâû ðîãàòûå îáðóøèë.
(È ýòà àäáêàÿ ìóçûêà áóäåò èãðàòü äî óòðà!)
The strike of the sword is like the hammer of Thor
Dissecting helmets of horned strangers
As Odin's lightning pierces, sharp spears
Kill souls of knights one by one
The river abyss swallowed your screams
All has become silence
The battle is over and you see in the sky
Floating spirit of triumph
It was your first battle. It was your first test
You were blessed by god and passed
Having sprinkled the Russian ground with the blood of Swedish bastards