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Tvangeste
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1
The wind blended the smoke of fires with the breath of the swamp
2
The deadly embrace grips us in it's iron claws
3
No way out, but we will face the death
4
The sword or bog is better then the enemy's scaffold
5
Yes, we entreated, but gods did not heed our prayers
6
The hatred tightens round your neck harder than the noose
7
The crusaders stamp across our native lands
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The Steel craves for the battlefield
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Our hands shake with trepidation yet resolved to fight
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We know we cannot save our land
11
We know that today we will join our ancestors
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No grumble, we are not appealing to gods anymore
13
Our earthly paths seem to be gone through
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The enemies' camps are promising loss with their fires
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The blood is getting cold in veins from the enemies horses' neighing
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Close is the moment when the heart will beat faster
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The armors will reflect the bloody dusk
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Blood will flow like boundless river
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Endless will be mothers' sorrow
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The clouds will close the land forever
21
The land most dear to us
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The arrows fly overhead in the name of Compassion
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The daggers buried in our backs in the name of Righteousness
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The swords cut our hearts out in the name of Divine Mercy
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Those who did not want to betray their gods and fathers
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The swords are a hundred lightnings like the token of misfortune
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The fear of death is stamped into the swampy dirt
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Craving for murder and insanity, close connection.
29
Hiss of the bowstring, peal and moan, the troops mixed
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Those who brought the teaching of Christ to our land
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Under the mask of endless good
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They came to make the people kneel
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And make us cattle
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The flame in sacred thicket died away
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And cold welded the whole world right away
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And merely the curtain of cold rain
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Coupled with despair is ruling here
38
They came to make the people kneel
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And make us cattle
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The heart is beating in the cage like a bird without wings
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The grief is tearing souls to pieces
42
The sky is tearing itself apart with a helpless moan
43
The helpless moan of our Motherland
44
Under the attack of the welded in steel
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The strangers bringing destruction
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The land of fathers is shaking and no use
47
To entreat the Gods for help
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I see the Raven... His wings are ousting sky
49
He's soaring above the death like a black shadow
50
That's the soul of Prussian land.
51
Tears will wash off blood from my sword
52
The raindrops will extinguish the fire of hatred in my heart
53
And with the pure sense of a free man
54
I will head for Eternity via the path of Glory...
Tvangeste - Raven
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