Zerivana - Jaryło (with English translation)

Yarilo rides on a horse - carried by the wind, in the green of the grasses,
And above him the storks return to their nests,
And behind him white snowdrops bloom.
He transforms the snow into swift rivers
With the power of the Spring Sun,
Wielding all-powerful axe, the thunder,
In his bright hand.

Yarilo rides on a cloud - airily, in the scent of meadows,
And paints the wooden villages with birch,
With the freshness of nettles, with coltsfoot and yarrow,
He decorates the holy figures in the crossroads
With the smoke of offerings,
Weaving the blue sky of Dazhbog
Into the world’s fate.

Welcome, Yarilo-Yaruna,
The long-awaited Sunray.
We put flower crowns on your head,
We pour mead into the fire
In this holy, mighty time.

Let the fields, decorated with the stars of pilewort,
Give us a huge harvest.
Let them bring us life,
Blooming in the eternal shade of Marzanna.