Daughter of the Sun
The wheel, oh Svarog, the Lord of sunrays,
You put beneath her feet.
She is your daughter, born where the clouds are.
Make her the crown of dreams
And on her temples this crown of flowers
Put, my almighty God.
Her naked clothing, oh, Lord of Richness,
Make of aurora's gold!
Master of Heavens, don't let them steal it,
Don't let them watch her dance,
For in her dancing there is wild spirit
And Slavic forest dense!
In solar movements death bites the living,
All worlds becoming One.
Oh, mighty Svarog, my King and Master,
Enchant me too! Be done!
And like this maiden I'll die in circle,
Beaten by mists of morn.
Accept my tribute as I am dying.
My pride shan't be forlorn!
28th of April 2002