Скачать или смотреть Ancestral Blood | PL | SLAVIC GODS - Slavic Pagan folk Music

**IMPORTANT** There's no political intent behind this music. There's only room here for the love of history, mythology, and music.

"Ancestral Blood" is a soul-stirring Slavic hymn to the ancient gods and spirits who still dwell in the rivers, forests, and hearts of those who remember. Set along the whispering banks of the Vistula and deep in the primeval woods, this song is a tribute to the divine forces that have shaped the soul of the Slavic people for centuries.

Through powerful verses and ancient rhythm, Ancestral Blood reminds us that the strength of our ancestors lives on in our memory, in the land, and in the sacred word.

🌿Lyric PL:
Tam, gdzie Wisła szeptem płynie,
Gdzie puszcza szumi w ciszy godzinie,
Tam duchy stare wciąż czuwają,
Bogowie przodków w sercach trwają.

***Słuchaj, ziemio, śpiew ten gra,
O tych, co z nami od wieków trwają.
Perun, Mokosz, Weles w mgle,
Siła Słowian w pradawnej krwi.

Perun, gromowładny pan,
Niebem włada, zsyła świt i stan.
W jego dłoni błysk i gniew,
Ale i prawo, co daje chleb.

Mokosz, matka pól i ziarna,
Tkaczka losów, ziemska, wierna.
Gdzie kobieta, tam jej cień,
W modlitwie, w pracy, w każdy dzień.

Weles, mędrzec z podziemia bram,
Pan bogactwa, lasu i snam.
Z rogami byka wśród mgły kroczy,
Na granicy światów, zawsze oczy.

Dopóki pamięć w pieśni żyje,
Nie zginą duchy w słowiańskiej kniei.
Bo w duszy ludu, w ziemi, w mowie,
Trwają bogowie, wiecznie, w głowie.

🌿 English Translation:
There, where the Vistula flows in whispers,
Where the forest rustles in the silence of the hour,
There the old spirits still keep watch,
The gods of the ancestors live on in our hearts.

Listen, O land, this song resounds,
Of those who have stood with us through the ages.
Perun, Mokosh, Veles in the mist,
The strength of the Slavs in ancient blood persists.

Perun, the thunder-wielding lord,
Rules the skies, brings dawn and accord.
In his hand, lightning and wrath,
But also law, that feeds our path.

Mokosh, mother of fields and grain,
Weaver of fates, earthly, faithful and plain.
Where there's a woman, there’s her trace,
In prayer, in labor, in every place.

Veles, the sage from the underworld’s gate,
Lord of wealth, of forest, of fate.
With bull’s horns he walks through the haze,
At the world’s edge, his eternal gaze.

As long as memory lives in song,
The spirits in Slavic woods live strong.
For in the soul, in earth, in speech,
The gods endure, forever within reach.

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