...
We are children with no kin, the petty servants on whom no light shines.
In our left hand is the shield that protects our home, and our right wields the sword that is the will of the polar star.
For crowns we wear masks that deplore the twisted logic of the heavens, and false gods and vanquished foes lie at our feet.
...
Let me be the evil amidst good, the poison amidst the herbs, the wolf in sheep's clothing, the mercury in a golden chalice,
I shall leave my siblings beyond blood, and fight for parents whose blood I do not share.
My dear Snezheviches, my dear Snezhevnas, my brothers and sisters,
If I were to one day cease my journey and slumber under the white birch, please carry on without me...