At The Dawn | Daro Music World скачать в хорошем качестве

At The Dawn | Daro Music World

At The Dawn is a mystical folk-inspired composition that journeys into the origins of Slavic creation, spirituality, and the sacred bond between humanity and nature. Blending deep bass soundscapes with emotional female vocals, the song evokes ancient rituals, primal forces, and the divine weaving of life itself. Inspired by Slavic mythology, the lyrics honor Mokosh — Mother Earth and goddess of fertility — alongside Perun, god of thunder, and Weles, keeper of mystery and the underworld. Through their cosmic weaving, the story of mankind unfolds: born from clay, rain, lightning, and spirit. This track is both a healing chant and an epic mythological tale — a tribute to ancient roots, feminine power, and the eternal heartbeat of the earth. 📌 The channel Echoes of Daro’s Mind & Soul Music is where AI supports human creativity, merging personal storytelling with modern musical production. Channel motto: Where soul meets sound ☑️ Subscribe ✔️ Share 💬 Comment 👍 Give a thumbs-up or thumbs-down Video Dji Air 3s AI Music Text: At The Dawn - Dariusz Grygas At the dawn of all beginnings, a thread was given them — One white, the other black. A weave upon the spindle of life, From the abyss of darkness, from the depth of nothingness. From the earth beneath the vaulted sky, Where chaos mingled heaven and the underworld. Mokosh was weaving, Weles was weaving too, And Perun wove — the kin of the Slavs. Chorus O Mokosh, our Mother, Mother of rain, Mother of fertile earth, From your touch the power of love was born. Woman — Mother, Daughter, Witch of the herbs, May your children be forever faithful to their ancient roots. Sons of the Earth, Daughters of the Earth, In the field, in the rain, Of shadow and of light — Born not of pride, but of humble heart, To listen to the heartbeat of the earth. And though the gods wove their strength, They alone choose the paths of life. Verse 2 On the earth where Mokosh’s seed grows, From the spark of light, from the dawn’s first dew — From a handful of soil you shaped the daughter of divinity, From another - a son. From your moist womb, from moss and grain, Mokosh — you wove the children of mankind. You took the clay and breathed life into it with rain, From mud and bloom you shaped the body, With your hand you shaped the woman’s form. You gave her warmth, You gave her a mother’s perfect breast. From the breath of earth, from the blood of springs, From reeds and herbs, you wove the heart, Wove it beneath the sky’s embrace. From the milk of dew, from the blood of creation, you gave the power to exist. Soft hands — to heal the earth, Every tear — it's a drop of you. Verse 3 From the voice of Weles, a song echoed, From runes and signs — a language bloomed. From his breath — eternal memory, So the Slavic kin would never forget their words. From the sparks of embers — life was given, Perun’s lightning descended upon man's body. Within man, the strength of oak was planted— To love, to fight, to create, to guard the gods’ creation. From the Perun's spark, from Weles schadow, Though arisen from clay, from mud and wood — Within him are storm, war, and the longing for eternity. From Mokosh — tenderness, the spark of love. From thunder’s flash, from the breath of wind, Perun shaped the man — the son of the forest. He gave him strength in his hands, a heart of solid stone. When Mokosh whispered, the earth trembled; She blessed him with rain and strenght. Woman — gift of Mokosh, gift of earth, In your braids — are woven the fields of golden grain. You love, you heal, you carry life. By the full moon, you weave your spells. Mokosh, our Mother — your clay is in our hands, Forever alive in our sons. You are within us — in fields and in trees. Outro Perun, you are our beginning — you gave us a heart of thunder. From your lightning, from the fire of the heavens, the strength of the Slavs was born. Weles, father of mystery, shadow, and death, you gave a soul of darkness, shadows and dreams from the underworld. You bestowed depth upon our lives. From the womb of Mokosh flows the gift of the life. From you comes the Slavic child. #folkmusic #slavicmusic #healingmusic