Far over the Misty Mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day, To find our long forgotten gold.
The pines were roaring on the height, The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; The trees like torches blazed with light.
Мы придем Сквозь мглистых гор хребет В пещерах там Не брезжит свет
Ветра стонали В мраке ночном Шептали ветви Все о своем
Багровый всплеск Нам нес конец Заполыхало Все огнем