Olég,1 the Wise Prince, was preparing his shield
To nail it above the main entrance,2
When suddenly someone starts running to him
And urgently whispers and mumbles.

"Hey, prince," this strange fellow says out of the blue,
"You’ll die by your steed, and I’m telling you true!"

The prince was about to ride out at the helm,
To take his revenge on the Khazars,
When suddenly he saw the grey-haired wise men
That reeked of moonshine and looked plastered.

And they, for some reason, say out of the blue
That he will soon die by his steed and it’s true.

"From where did you come from? Enough is enough!"
The troop quickly took up their cudgels.
"You’re plastered, old man, so go on grab a nap,
And stop spreading tales that cause troubles.

You can’t go around and say out of the blue
That he will soon die by his steed and it’s true."

They did not succeed in keeping their heads,
You can’t joke with princes or soldiers!
The club-wielding riders attacked them at length,
And magi were trampled by coursers.

Just look what a fool to say out of the blue
That someone will die by his horse and it’s true!

Oleg, the Wise Prince, did not change his tough stand
And drove his campaign with persistence.
Just one single time he recalled the wise men
And laughed on the magi’s insistence:

"Those men were all mad to say out of the blue
That I had to die by my steed and it’s true.

For he, my good steed, has been dead for a while,
And here lies his skull, long neglected."
Oleg laid his foot on the stallion’s skull
And died on the spot in a second.

A treacherous viper was hiding from view,
Oleg quickly died by his steed, so it’s true.

...Thus everyone wants to admonish the wise
And feels not a trace of repentance.
If only he’d listened, he would have attached
Another yet shield by the entrance.

The wise men were telling Oleg what they knew:
That he will soon die by his steed and it’s true.