1. WHITE HAND'S POWER

The white hand, proud and strong by ruling the realm of Isengard, White as
Consciousness of illuminated mind spirit became flesh, Symbolized by the hand.
That's true cleanness, being able to raise the world out Of its hinges and
Create it new: Behold the banner's flying, it calls to Join, because the
White hand prevails...

White Hand's Power to the realm of Isengard, White Hand's Elegance to the
Kings of Isengard White Hand's Supremacy to the ancestors Of middle-earth
White Hand's Dominion to the end of the world...and to Universe at next!!!

Marching southwards, orkish battlecries in air, heavy Boots crush down
Weakness in dust. Warriors executing inferior lifes by Fireword: Submit or
Die. Creatures of odd... Creatures of ill... Creatures of Mud...
Degenerated by mixed blood! Submission, Submission, Submission
To the splendid kings of Isengard, to the race born of ice And flames!

White Hand's Power to the realm of Isengard, White Hand's Elegance to the
Kings of Isengard White Hand's Supremacy to the ancestors Of middle-earth
White Hand's Dominion to the end of the world...and to Universe at next!!!


2. AND THE HORN WAS SOUNDING FAR AWAY

When my spirit was roaming among the winter's fog I saw my Grey brother wolf
Drinking my blood. My body lay on the snow, disabled, Mortally wounded.

I, the last of the mountain's clan. Pursued and wounded by Enemies,
Passed away in this place.

I'm still hearing the horn sounding far away, Herds of Ravens are following
There. But I can't get there anymore...I am so far from my Burnt home.

I see the snow falling on my face,
But I am not able to throw it down.
I see my eyes closed
And mouths congealed in pain,
They will never say anything anymore...

Winds bring the black clouds...
Soon the thick snow will fall.
Wind! Hide my dead body!
I hear my persecutors are coming...

I will regenerate In the shape of wolf with black bristle
I will draw my fangs In the river of enemies' blood!