Three years of winter
After Baldr's death
As payment for treachery and insidiousness,
Giants from Jotunheim sent terrible frosts
With furious winds and blizzards
To the earth
People turned away from light of the true gods,
Having preferred them sickly by god's son from the South
The moral chaos and blindness,
Fornication and bloody conflicts absorbed them
Patrimonial norms were broken,
The brother raised a hand against the brother,
And the son against the father
Such is there was a price of acceptance of new belief
Guards of the sacred woods, deep lakes and prompt rivers
Rose from the barrows covered with autumn yellow leaves
Froze the water by breath, blew by awful frosty winds and
ghastly blizzards
And in its howls was audible the devil laughter of the Wild
hunting riding the sky
And Fernir will devour Sun and put world into the darkness
Amd Jormugand will rise from the deep and sea will come out of
shores
And fiery giant Surtr will burn out the earth by his flaming
sword
And ship of the dead, Naglfar will sail from Helheim
And sons of Muspellheim will crush the Bifrost
But the body of the crucified whore too won't escape
Hugin and Munin will peck out to this nit of an eye
Pigs will pick and will devour it's entrails
And it's rotten soul will fall in a serpent hall and will suffer
there until the end of times
The three-year winter will terminate
In atonement of treachery and death of the old world
Shadows of old gods will rest in peace
And justice will be restored together with renewal of all real
When Naglfar Sails
Brothers will start fighting with each other,
relatives will die in conflicts,
heavily in the world, great fornication,
century of swords and pole-axes, boards will burst
century of storms and wolves to death of the world
When Naglfar sails,
Like a huge evil shadow,
Reflected by the light of the moon,
Horribly enterns the shadow-fjords
When Naglfar sails,
From the kingdom of the dead
When Naglfar sails
Time of the twilight of the gods comes
Naglfar, ship made from
The fingernails and toenails of the dead
After three years of winter
Slides by the frozen sea
Army of Jotuns, conducted by Loki
Float on it to Vigrd,
The last battlefield for battle
With the gods
When Naglfar sails,
Like a huge evil shadow,
Reflected by the light of the moon,
Horribly enterns the shadow-fjords
When Naglfar sails,
From the kingdom of the dead
When Naglfar sails
Time of the twilight of the gods comes
Its sail fluttering on a wind is angry and black
Its boards are wide and sharp, like a razor edge
They crash into a flesh of Jehovah
And rotten flesh of the world which is eager for healing and renewal
Now time has come
For Surtr and his fiery sword
To burn out by red-hot iron an ugly ulcer
On a body of a frail world
Great gods and a blossoming tree of life
Nowadays are only shadows of itself
Poisoned by venom of treachery and cowardice
Of blind masses turned to the new god
I summon you!
Chtonic forces of nature
Fiery giants of Muspellheym
And descendants of ice giants from Jotunheim
Let the fire and water, the earth and the sky
Merge in a united furious rush
Let anger of pristine nature by united sweeping wave hit
Expiring ugly world
And bring it to renewal
Through the destruction and violence of the elements
Hrym steers from the east, waters rise,
the mundane snake is coiled in jotun-rage
The worm beats the water, and the eagle screams
The pale of beak tears carcasses, Naglfar is loosed
That ship fares from the east
come will Muspell's people over the sea, and Loki steers
The monster's kin goes all with the wolf
with them the brother of Byleist on their course
When Naglfar sails,
Like a huge evil shadow,
Reflected by the light of the moon,
Horribly enterns the shadow-fjords
When Naglfar sails,
From the kingdom of the dead
When Naglfar sails
Time of the twilight of the gods comes
The sun grew dim,
The earth sinks in the sea,
Light stars break from the sky,
The flame storms a life feeder,
Heat intolerable reaches the sky
Fullmoon Asbath
Spill the cursed wine
In the Fullmoon Asbath
In the lunar shine
Witchcraft superiority
We're the children of the Goddess!
We greet the Moon in our sacred grove!
Mother Moon gave us the Power
And Knowledge of Witchcraft!
In the night of Fullmoon
We gather in the dark forest
Where our horned lord reigns
Kernunnos and his spouse,
the Goddess-Mother
Under the night skies
We praise your sacred lunar light
And shining raging bleeding stars
Pure pagan pyre buring bright in the night
At the top of the mountain under the marble moon
Hidden in the deep sickets, we dance in circle
Against the moving of the Sun,
We are naked and soiled in blood,
Weaved in united ecstasy of cursed wine of our Goddess
Spill the cursed wine
In the Fullmoon Asbath
In the lunar shine
Witchcraft superiority
We stand around near
A rough sacrificial stone altar
Crowned by the bleeding heart
And chalice of wine,
In the middle of red clouds
Our god with cervine horns merges
In exciting ecstasy with our Mother
He sates by himself the insatiable moon
Which is in a zenith of the beauty and attractiveness
We write our pagan names in the Book of Shadows
Spill the cursed wine
In the Fullmoon Asbath
In the lunar shine
Witchcraft superiority
Wolf and Serpent
Cursed remnants, leper seeds of raped soil
Echoes of forgotten wars came throught the ages
Each time when storm clouds are condensed
Over the earth amazed with happy blindness, our time comes
In a dim light of candles shades are dancing on a ceiling
Silent monotonous chanting and flames crackling
The icon of the Pan looks from hardly shined gloom
At the stood figures in robes gathered in a dome-shaped hall
The signs of Wolf and Serpent
Over a floor covered with nails
Ladder steps with the dried up brown stains
Lead to a scaffold with the sacrificial well filled with snakes
The maiden drugged by sweet cures
Unsteady steps rises on ladder steps as if delirious
Falling down orgiastic culmination
Slippery cold creatures coiling on a snow-white skin
Thousand poisonous teeth are greedy stuck into a virgin flesh
Filling her belly with a cold snake semen
Orden of the Wolf and Serpent
When flesh meets steel in a pagan darkness
Sacrificing the innocence
In a hour of a blood-red fullmoon
Sacred signs and symbolds arising from the past
Shades are condensed again at the abandoned dolmens and cromlechs
The darkness of night is disturbed by whitish flashes of torches
And the Orden of the Wolf and Serpent sticks canines into a gentle flesh of the victim again
The Celebration
(originally The Festival by H.P.L.)
There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats over the world;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
feastings unhallowed and old.
There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sun’s turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance
Round a Yule-altar fungous and white.
To no gale of Earth’s kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
Song Of The Woods
By the mysterious rituals
Human souls have to purified
Trees know this
By the trees, by the herbs, by waters
And it will ripe for the harvest
Horned God Of The Celtic Forest
He willed us to leave strife
To unite our knowledges, spells and scrolls
To save the Body Of The Dragon
Wild green fire breaks out over the woods
And druids of Ogma return
Their voices sound over the world
Wave struck on forests from the sky
Our staghorned master
Will return the ancient magic
It will be a song of the woods,
Awakening them
Anail Nazrokh!
Uzvass Besudd!
Dohiel Dienve!
Oak! Duir! Daibhais!
The Horned Master Of The Green Forests
In the Holy Grove Of All Worlds
He sits in the oak ground
Uniting three worlds
Earth, Sea and Sky and Worlds beyond
God and World Tree is One
He is huge,
Stretching into the deep skies
And endless marcocosm
His massive trunk is a ridge
Of the Middle World
And a heart of the Ancient Forest
His roots getting deep
Into the secrets of the Earth and Underworld
Sun, Moon and Stars
Circling above Him
Pulsing and flickering Green Darkness everywhere
Bathing in a gold of scintillating fog
The soft moss covers the black, crude, bottomless soil
He wears a crown of the deer horns, Weaved with the ivy,
Burning the green fire
Cernunnos in His Ancient Forest,
In the Holy Temple, the Holy Grove, Cernunnos and his children - Dreams of the Worlds
Horned deity and the Green Man,
Guardian of the Green World.
On the stones, on the rocks,
On the ground - everywhere
Was his face
The Sacred Grove
Holy groves of Galatians
Drunemeton
Where no bird you can meet
And no beast dwells there
Leaves shiver there
Without any whiff of a wind
In the bent trunks of sacred oaks
It is possible to see
Cruel altars and terrible faces of gods
Here dead yews come to life,
Generously watered
By sacrificial blood
Unburning trees are wrapped
In a magical flame,
Huge snakes curled up
In kroner of mighty oaks
Here we bring the sacrifices
To the Andraste
Our lunar mother-goddess
Descended from a noble ancestry
Granting to us forces for dark arts
Here at midnight
Among the chopped-off heads of our enemies,
Traitors and criminals and
Their bodies got on stakes,
Our gloomy master with cervine horns comes
From the heart of the grove
Pleasing and frightening his children
By his impious presence
The Guardians Of The Green Darkness Gates
Through the silent and motionless forest,
They go, whispering by the wings
And mysterious sliding, a rustle of leaves,
A noiseless step of Progenitors,
The Oldest Animals gather round Him
Raven, Keeper Of The Gates
Deer of Seven Horns, Keeper Of Time
Ancient Owl, Old woman of Night
Eagle, Lord of Air, Sun Eye
And the Salmon, the Oldest of Them,
The Wisest of Wise
He welcomes and blesses them,
And they honor him, Cernunnos
Tree roots grow out of the ground
Gossip in the darkness in the magical patterns
Of roots and branches complicated the throne of the Master
Witching Horned Master of the Green Eternal Forest
Under the Crown of the Deer Horns
Two bright green eyes twinkling,
Reflected in the dark
At the forest gates behind him
Things at dusk were not clear
Nothing in the darkness does not claim to ultimate truth
Forest shadows and your imagination
Allow you to see everything as you see,
And not as it is
Flocks of prey owls and ravens
Circling over the branches of trees,
Sheltering by wings the moon and stars
Grievous wolves and terrible beasts
Of withcing forest prowl
In windbreaks and thickets
You may pass through the gates
Of the green darkness,
Only if your heart will beat
In unison with the pulse of the forest
We had grown Like Trees
We had grown like trees
From the underworld
Where our father Dis Pater reigns
Creator with forging hammer and chalice in hands
Listen to the whisper of the trees
Standing on the graves of our fathers
Arriving the world of spirits,
They spread their roots deep into the earth,
A place where we all come from and where back then
Forest is a holy cemetery of our forefathers
Whispering shadows roam in the dark groves
Trunks with disembodied eyes stare into the night
And gnarled tree branches sway without breath of wind
I lean a hand to bark and I feel its awe, pulse of living heart
The flow of words and images streams on me and through me,
Like waterfall
I lay down on the earth, I close eyes and I feel as I take root
The oldest oaks still remember what was hundreds years ago
As lunar shadows were turned in dances with spirits of cold lakes
As great sorcerers of the past rose on stars to thrones of great lords in skies
As silver lightnings opened to people a flame secret, and gods wandered on the Earth
Dark Autumn Rites
In agonal sighs of the dying-away October
The fire of a forest decline is reflected
In the melted gold of fallen leaves
Uneasy winds become colder, and shadows are extended
We're going to circle near the forest burial mounds
From it appearing the strong shadows of the dead,
The patrons of our tribe and folk
And they require sacrifices, like fading forces of nature
We put before them the heads of the Roman soldiers,
Who killed druids and cut down the sacred groves
We share their flesh with the spirits of our ancestors
And sprinkle by their blood the cold autumn ground
We raise the bowls made ??out of their skulls
And drink the blood of our fallen enemies,
Washing by it our faces and bodies
In the reflection of the disk of cold moon
We are holding hands, moving around in circle,
And our chants echoing in flattering thickets,
From where a lot of luminous evil eyes watching us
And spirits of our ancestors dance with us
Erased the line between the spirit world
And the living world in Samhain
From a wide circular stone altar rises
The swirling tall shadow with deer horns
In triumph he spreads his palms to the October night sky
And by his pointing finger, he dawns on us!
Great god of wild forest, Cernunnos, we greet you!
Veiled in darkness
You are who topped with deer horns,
Lord of the lower world,
Of forest trees and beasts!
Praise to You!
