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Beneath the blood-soaked soil

echoes of ancient pride resound

My veins run thick with the pure slavic blood

through forests dark and wild

we hunt our enemies like wolves

leaving their broken bodies to rot in the mud

The scars of battle mark our flesh

but they are nothing compared to the wounds on our souls

we have seen our brothers fall

torn apart by the jaws of judeo-christian beasts

The rivers run red beneath the moon’s pale eye

the ravens feast upon the crown of kings

temples crumble, cities burn to ash

as the old faith rises from the smoke

No prayers will save them now

their idols drown in their own tears

through storm and flame we carve our path

and only silence follows in our wake

But we will not rest until every last one of them is avenged

with sword in hand and fire in our hearts, we march ever onward

I was born for war...

Towards a assured future

where our people will once again reign supreme

Let the world tremble at the sound of our war cry

for we are the sons of veles, and we will never be defeated