There are bonfires on the high hills of the Tatras There are desires for war on the hills of the Fatras There are choes of the loud roaring war cries There are the men of steel standing almost under the skies
Up the hills the warriors slowly march They are shielded with the thick larch They are as one in body and brain They don't feel any fatigue and pain
The pitiless battle is raging the whole night And masses of men are dying in this tiresome fight Above the battlefield the moon is shining bright And the stodorans are giving an abysmal fright
911 - At the close of the year Bravery and power of stodoran's tribe appear Absolute triumph of the stodorans is very near And numerous bonfires of victory are blazing clear
The battle is over, all the ground is soaked in gore 20000 men were killed in the war The ugrians suffered a crushing defeat And the stodorans performed a great feat