Again, comrade, we are pierced,
Again they take us to the gun,
That vodka, they say, will rise in price,
And I will say - vain work!
We only rally are more closely
In the face of deaf threats.
Nothing will separate us from her -
Neither God, nor the king or cirrhosis.
Let freedom be defeated to dust
Let the rights be trampled into dust,
But genetic code
In us, eternal power is alive.