На английском. Замечания и правки принимаются.
Предупреждаю, оно длинноеIf thy willst, oh cub of Garou,
To become a Bown-e-Gnawler,
Thy should thoughtfully remember:
There is no such thing like order;
Keep thine fur and maybe closes
As more dirty, as allows thee
Thine sharp smell and skin, which itches:
This will keep the lice on distance
And destruct them from predating.
Also thy should learn and follow:
Laws are only made for weenies,
So the Litany is truly
As not wished, so too unneeded.
Who for Gaya's sake would really
Stop the mating with some cheese'ye,
While, know, he or she's so lovely...
On the other hand, the servants
Of the evil Wyrm must slay we,
Eating burgers, drinking cola
Do we terminate the monsters:
Eat them all – this is our motto!
Giving honor to anothers
Caerns, homes and territories
We can only show our weekness,
So be bold and devastating
And as rude as Gets of Fenris,
But when some old Jack is nearby -
Layst on ground and be pathetic:
Then just maybe they will give thee
Meat or bear or sweats or money.
If Thine fiend is almost finished,
If he's dying, if he's crying
“Give me mercy!” - well, be generous,
Kill at once the poorest bastard.
And if elder speaks of something,
Blah-blah-blah, and other rubbish,
Keep thine smile polite and gently -
Old wretch's out of mind, don't listen,
Do as thy desire, forget him.
He'll be thankful, if he makes it.
Who from one's good will to elders
Gives his hunt to make them prosper
And to die then sick from hunger?
Keep the better part in hide-outs
Then to eat alone what's hunted.
Don't thy eat the flesh of humans.
It is rich and so nourishing,
Yet the people can have weapon,
Carry knifes and guns and armor,
So forget of it for ever.
Lo! There's some poor dog approaching!
Kick the suckers ass, he needs it.
So he won't forget, do teach him
He should kneel in front of elders.
Well, but keep the Veil not open,
Don't thy ever try to tell them
People of what we are really.
It is not about the weapon
They can kill thee with, if knowing.
It's about us all revenging
To the long-tongued silly bastard
Who's to smart to keep the secret.
What about the kinfolk, tell me?
Is it bad to make them work out
Their by Gaya blessed fortune
Or our sexual slaves and workers?
Let them wash thee, let them feed thee,
Let them make thine life much longer!
As songs of twelfth 'n' eleventh
Of the Litany... Uh, bullshit.
Thy can change thine old weak leader
Any time thy want. Be daring,
Take the best and doom the weakest.
Only one thing – here me truly,
Little wretch! I won't repeat then -
Only one thing there should matter,
Only one song thy remember:
Keep the bloody fiends and strangers
Far away from thine pack's caern.
Else – there won't be place to hide in,
Else – you'll have no source of Gnosis,
Else thy will stay cub forever.
This remember, think and listen,
Be times cruel and times be noble,
Wear all signs thy like, Bone Gnawler!
Thee shall Gaya condescend to...