To The People From East Russia
(Hail To The Heroes-First Comers!)
Waves, Strugs, The Heart Is Beating.
The Fingers Erased, The Oar Is Hard
The Shore Is Near, But The Enemy Is Near
The Men Come In The Unknown Land
They Hack Their Way By The Sharp Saber
Where Rivers Flow Away
Born Again, And Die
And Find Their Freedom Here
Evil Enemy Prepared Ambushes
Never Fights In Fair Combat
Our Forefathers Fought Not For Rewards
Everyone Knows, They Died For Russland
The Arrows Fly As A Bloody Rain
The Fingers Are Held, And A Little More Strength
Our Ancestors Die, Breaking The Sabers
They Give Us The Far East
But Why We, Brothers, Shame Our Race
The Enemy Is Moving In Our Home
We Choke Our Motherland In Drunkenness
Opening The Gates For Enemies
Stand Up Brothers, Your Sleep Is Not Eternal
We Don't Want To Live With Enemies
They Never Enter Into Our Souls
We Will Never Give Them Our Land
