Testo di 'Bylina About Sviatoslav' di Pagan Reign

Heir is born in sunny morning
Perun's warrior, child of fame
Igor, prince decides to call him
Svyatoslav shall be his name

Thunder of triumph is roaring
It foretells the clash of steel
New age comes, the age of glory
Tidings spread from hill to hill

Southern foes becoming cautious
Sharpen their bloodstained swords
Svyatoslav grows up so fast and
He intends to fight their hordes

He swears to the border settlers
To thwart every nomads' raid
Every year he gathers warriors
Since these words of hope were said

Raven hovers in the blue skies
Prince leads armies to the south
Through the steppes, through woods and plains
To the core of hostile wrath

Fear burns in the hearts of Khazars
Horror rules in eastern land
Itil taken with attack and
Kaganat has lost its head

In the front line striding forward
Svyatoslav leads every fight
When he gives the battle orders
Trusted men are by his side

For the victory they march on
Everyone gives all he has
Army reached the gates of Tsargrad
On warships in year or less

Ancient city of Bysantium
Sieged by warriors proud and brave
Swords were clashing so loud over
Crosses of the alien faith

Svyatoslav fulfilled his oath
He defeated all the foes
Dusk was red as spattered blood
Troops were marching to their homes

But the nomad's sneak attack
Mean and sudden stab from back
Killing dozens prince fought well
Deadly wounded stumbled and fell

But despite of this sad death
Russia kept the might, he left
He brought glory to the land
Where he was born, where he reigned