I'm not cold, not warm,
From human flawless eyes,
From human endless phrases -
The wolf does not know the worldly language...

On the trail of Alpine flowers
Air pressure the volume of the lungs,
And in twilight is ablaze my Fang,
Choosing only the most brisk.

Chorus:
I'm a hermit, my home Land,
My roof over my head.
I play with fate joking,
I'm walking the fatal line.

I was driven to the abyss flags,
Tore the skin of a pack of dogs,
I didn't think in the heat of attack,
That killing is a cure for wounds.

The hunger, the brain, my stomach sank,
The cold beat and bit the sides,
But I knew — Kohl is free until
I am I, then alive, then Alive!

Are you going to shoot?
My rage won't save me,
And your finger quietly presses
On iron blind trigger.

Wait! Give me a chance for revenge!
Let us fight on an equal footing!
I'll tear your soul to shreds...
But the goal of two long jump.

It's late. Wool will not hold buckshot,
Blood will stain the glittering snow,
And will be interrupted my furious age...
But in me there is free I!