Казачья [Kazachia] [English translation]

The smog's hanging over the Cossack village

That's the Ataman's smoking (1)

The Cossack men and women are guzzling moonshine

The corral is filled with the prime of mat (2a),

The captain lies dead drunk(2b)

And the whole yard is blocked with empty bottles

And while the front seems calm,

The whole village is eavesdropping

We drink our moonshine, ready to face death

But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,

Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike ! (3)

Outside in the yard the accordion is playing,

And the booze flows like a river

Yes, a true Cossack never gets tired of drinking

A Liter, two, or four or five, yes, pour me some more

Old women have been tired down of brewing moonshine

And while the front seems calm,

The whole village is eavesdropping

We drink our moonshine, ready to face death

But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,

Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike !

But if trouble should suddenly arise, if the enemy horde

Should suddenly desire to play a dirty trick

Let the enemy not rock the boat,

Lest we would all fall into the water

With his saber, a Cossack will even charge a tank

And while the front seems calm,

The whole village is eavesdropping

We drink our moonshine, ready to face death

But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,

Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike !

• Artist:Sektor Gaza