| The winners fell into a dream | 
| And they put up guards. | 
| But even the sentinels want to sleep, and the rest is tryn-grass! | 
| And then we, the marauders, enter the conquered city, | 
| And we dictate the terms | 
| And we lay claim! | 
| Hear the march of the marauders! | 
| (Boots creak on gravel!) | 
| Praise us marauders | 
| And cheerful your army! | 
| Glory! | 
| Glory! | 
| Glory to us! | 
| The surviving inhabitants hurry to hide in holes like mice. | 
| Girls dress up as old women | 
| And they are waiting for the blessed darkness. | 
| But they won't deceive us | 
| Because we are marauders | 
| And while the winners are sleeping, we are the masters in the city! | 
| Hear the march of the marauders!.. | 
| Tear doors off their hinges, | 
| Pull carpets and curtains | 
| Everything will come in handy - and money, and booze, and grub! | 
| Ah, what fun we looters are walking, | 
| Oh, what weighty words we come up with! | 
| Hear the march of the marauders!.. | 
| Sweet sleep winners. | 
| They dream of golden mountains, | 
| They dream of the banner of Victory, pockmarked with torn holes. | 
| And we have no time to sleep, | 
| Because we are marauders. | 
| But crazy with fear, | 
| We are applauded by the world! | 
| Hear the march of the marauders!.. | 
| And this is not the main thing. | 
| You didn't see the main thing. | 
| There will be morning and the sun in festive clouds. | 
| The bugler will blow the wake-up call. | 
| The winners will shake off the dream | 
| And they will see that they do not have the banner of Victory, | 
| and in our hands! | 
| Listen to the march... March... | 
| And there's nothing to argue about. | 
| Empty fun - disputes. | 
| When passions subside and swearing smoke disperses, | 
| Historians will figure out which of us are marauders, | 
| And we will tell them! | 
| And we will enlighten them! | 
| Listen to the march of the winners! | 
| Orchestras are playing marches over the abyss of the parade ground. | 
| Girls waving flowers. | 
| The building is unbreakable and straight. | 
| And it turned out - everything is in order! | 
| And so, everything is as it should - | 
| You marauders, a bullet! | 
| And girls and marches - to us! | 
| Listen to the march of the winners! | 
| (The creak of boots on gravel). | 
| Praise us, the winners, | 
| And our great army! | 
| Glory! | 
| Glory! | 
| Glory to us!.. |