| For the fourth day the villages are burning,
|
| The Don land is sweating with rain.
|
| Do not lose heart, lieutenant Golitsyn,
|
| Cornet Obolensky, pour some wine.
|
| Familiar faces flash by the Arbat,
|
| From the alley, the gypsies enter the tavern.
|
| Serve glasses, lieutenant Golitsyn,
|
| Cornet Obolensky, pour some wine.
|
| And somewhere, after all, troikas are rushing by,
|
| Alas, we do not understand what our fault is.
|
| Do not lose heart, lieutenant Golitsyn,
|
| Cornet Obolensky, saddle your horse.
|
| And at dusk the horses rush to the Yar,
|
| Well, sad, my young cornet.
|
| And in our rooms sit commissars
|
| And our girls are led to the office.
|
| Above the gloomy Don we go with a squadron,
|
| Russia, the country, inspires to fight.
|
| Hand out the cartridges, lieutenant Golitsyn,
|
| Cornet Obolensky, put on orders!
|
| Ah, the Russian sun, the great sun,
|
| The ship "Emperor" froze like an arrow...
|
| Lieutenant Golitsyn, maybe we'll return,
|
| Why do we need a foreign land, lieutenant. |