Auto-translated
Old friends gathered by the ancient oak. The forest echoes with the clatter of dishes, preparations for a feast are underway.
A huge table is already set, and a magnificent pig is roasting.
And a glorious troll carries a barrel of good beer.
Since ancient times, as tradition dictates, friends meet once a year.
Oh, how many of them have gathered here!
A wondrous people are celebrating.
The King sits opposite the forester, the forester sits to the right of the jester.
And nearby, the dwarves are not bored – they sing songs about the mountains.
Everyone here will tell you a story; this is the law of the gathering, and such is the will of the Prince!
Here, you won't find a fool who won't pour himself a beer!
And, clinking glasses, the old friends will get drunk.
And, leaning on a golden cane, in the guise of all unholy power, stands Nobody and No One, stands the Russian
Prince-sorcerer Vasily.
And, leaning on a golden cane, in the guise of all unholy power, stands Nobody and No One, stands the Russian
Prince-sorcerer Vasily.
The book is closed, and the forest has disappeared somewhere.
But I hear the rustling of leaves, and the singing of old friends...