Nezhegol - "Asgard`s Raid" (2011)













Fifth album of Nezhegol


In the Distance I Look

In the distance I look in the steel menacing sky where
on snow-covered rocks there is no
trace of the human from the outside.
To me from eyes the wind sweeps away the frozen
salt, becoming covered with hoarfrost on
lips by grief lived, but not forgotten.

Blood rumble in veins as if a storm shined with light-
nings, I touch secrets that emerge in
images of Heroes and Leaders… Northern Boundar-
ies Insuperable. Memorys and New Turn of the
Spectra Wheel… – I flying over you!…

Expanse of Fatherland! From cold rocks –
To the southern rivers, whose image is lovely…
From frozen mountains – to spacious fields
Through bloody snow – the Feast of swearing,

Where the Dog of War a damnation barks,
And where the grief burns a pain…
There the Hammer of the Wolf torments a breast,
And Nezhegol wounds in heart.


Asgard’s Raid

With leafage in the last night October,
In Wild Hunting to break from heavens.
To burn with fire in the autumn darkness
To Flare! To flare in raw oblivion!

To be the warrior!
To rise among the cripples
And to overcome in itself
All that limited them!

Roll of a thunder, lightning’s ray,
To sweep on autumn heavens
And let was called as the friend or the enemy,
Having begun to doubt, he will show himself!

To be eternal!
To store memory of the past,
To live in memory,
In a spirit of the people!
And to contemplate the prosperity of nation!

Rush on clouds of the ram sky by arrows of lightnings Wotan’s army
Lead Last Battalion from a hall Brave, Glory Halls!
Sweep away on the way sickly souls, painful creations!
Taste Victory’s taste, on the fight ashes reviving!


By Wrath of Wotan

Winds will howl, having cocked autumn leafage,
By gray ashes, having reduced crosses to ashes,
By prophetic thunder having warned about war,
Storm by a spout, wind of dampness of tombs!

From the sky by hailstones, wrath of High!
Bullets rush ice splinters!
Search for the purposes! Scared searching!
In a darkness of autumn night wolves are roving

Hailstones, storm will break their shabby roofs!
We feel as the sky breathes!
Breathes by thunderstorm for empty souls,
Breathes by spite for those who has forgotten the genus!

The twilight is pierced with hoofs of horses of Wild Hunting,
Ice breath of a wind informs their roar.
Fight rumble, a gnash of swords, will break silence of the autumn sky
And the world dragon will weaken in a death convulsion the grasp!


The Eternal Earth Under Our Feet

I’m a fast wave of cold ocean
I’m noise of thousand swords of bloody fight
I’m a proud wolf on a white rock
I’m a sword under a stone in an icy source
I’m impetuous flight of a fighting axe
I’m an oak in the middle of a boundless field
I’m an eagle under whose wings is sky
I’m a wind a bearing long-awaited rain

Glance in eyes of my lakes, go my pats
Drink the fast blood of my rivers

I’m pride of brave soldiers
I’m a lightning stroke in the early spring
I’m each strip of the sowed field
I’m a stream under roots of silver aspens
I’m a black hammer in an old smithy
I’m a coin at an oozy bottom of a whirlpool
I’m tired steps coming back home
I’m a scratch of wooden wheel

Fly up on wings of a crimson sunset,
Be born spilling life drops on an altar of belief

I’m shout of a seagull over sandy coast
I’m a reflection bloody-crimson sunset
I’m silent breath of the dying human
I’m the growing and decreasing moon
I’m the forgotten speeches of the gray-haired wizard
I’m loneliness among the human sea
I’m a thunder which is clearing up a new dawn
I’m a hand welcoming the sun

Our spirit, our will, woods and mountains all this –
Our Eternal Earth under our feet


Where Trees Grow on Stones

The face of spirit the Flint presses on a break.
There our light seems evil to you
I hear an echo of ancient legend

Where gloom’s and fog’s daughter
On fire polar becomes scald’s song,
Passions, sufferings, by caustic poison of revenge.
Over this world there comes night

All weakness absorbing in decay of hearts,
Growth of generations new give birth a carrion.
More and more a dirt and decline is stronger,
Such end waiting a human genus.

Through a stone the sprout makes the way,
The ray of light is necessary only for its aspiration
Let stone cuts a flesh,
The soul song is become more beautiful only
Over it the fate isn’t imperious!

Our way is that also was, from ice born,
Through a gloom of centuries carred blood of gods,
Which have learned a steel of victoris and rust of fetters.
Now prostrates, but not enslaved.

I see primordiality in the sun’s sign
And in streaks of gray of centuries – the beginnings cresset.
Mine race way – from its dawn to a tomb in all-mixed foul place!

We have come from the north lonely world,
Without us so empty,
And on nowadays still burn in sky-blue eyes
And will for the sake of the purpose to be cruel.


So Sing a Wind with Pride in a Steel Soul

Still there is a conscience, there is a center of aspirations,
All that in our hearts broadcasts loudly.
And that descendants should accept from us.
To continue Glories a military way of fulfillments

That ancestors have give to store, in hearts
Are must to save up and increase
And, as they once to take out a sword from a sheath
During an instant of glory eternal, in approaching the end.

So sing a wind with pride in a steel soul
Let we are united by a wrath roar
Let brothers press hands under an elbow.
Going to be in the Wild army already.

Where trees grow on stones
Where gloom’s and fog’s daughter
There the spirit of race waits the night,
There sense of our lives in northern legends

We will be not bent a trouble by bloody fate.
Our flags will turn to blood banners
I see primordiality in the sun’s sign
Through a stone the sprout makes the way


Morning of Winter

The autumn has disappeared by a smoke,
In the morning has turned back white,
From a raw gloom of night
Has rushed a fierce snowstorm!

Roar of hundreds thousand of throats.
By a howl bending trees,
Rumble of Northern Horn
Has deafened ears of the weak!

Eye through gray clouds,
Through abuse of autumn night,
Fight sees One-eyed,
Sees in it strong, marks the sickly!

The hammer ring beats through a twilight,
The Dog in darkness rattles chains,
Links don’t take out force,
Bark more loud! Fight more heat!

The autumn has disappeared by a smoke.
In the morning has turned back white,
Having disappeared, having left only memory
Memory that streams in veins!