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The pale moon casts its evil eye |
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Over the man in the forest |
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He calls wolves with the soundless bagpipe |
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Utters the magic words of summoning |
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And when the snowstorm starts its icy dance |
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Wolves come - red burns their eyes |
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Hugeful howlings fill the night sky |
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In the depth of the forest |
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There live people far from the others |
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They live by the elders' custom and worship pagan gods |
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Wolves guard them against the persecution of christians |
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As they deny the dogma of christ |
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People from the neighbourning villages |
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Call this place - the forest of werewolves |
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(they tell:) |
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Those who pass the marsh of wolve never return |
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Howling |
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The snowstorm roars |
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Red blood paints the snow |
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Wolves gnaw the bones of man |
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Who dared to enter the realm of werewolves |
