Holdaar - ... где не место рабу - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

They look at the ancestors strictly from the sky to our crowd. Choosing God chooses fate. There are few of us. Keeping the memory of faith, choosing God for yourself, that by the blood of relatives. Before whom they do not stay alone in poverty, and do not brotherly in the Black Sea of Horde with the enemy. Before whoever does not blame, do not crawl to the altar, and do not languish in prison - to be in the wild in honor. The roof of our temple is the sun, the walls of our temple are our swords, songs of secret forces and curtains of the dawn, our ancestors of the grave - in the steppe of the altar. The road lasts, where there is no place for a slave, choosing God, chooses fate.