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 biased with light.
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За Мглистые Горы пора нам идти
В Поход за сокровищем прошлых столетий!
Уйдем на рассвете, пусть бесится ветер,
Нам древнее золото надо найти.
__________

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