We were born near the mouths of Russian rivers,
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Where there is no end to the feather grass expanse.
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Another is accustomed to servility the whole century,
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And the Cossack needs only a horse and the steppe and freedom.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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It's cold again in Russia.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Wormwood and quinoa in the fields.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Difficult years will pass.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Trouble is not a problem either.
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We got Siberia for the Fatherland,
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We passed it to the sea-ocean.
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Not gold attracted, beckoned expanse,
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And it was not fear that led, but faith in the ataman.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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We fear God's Judgment.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Our chieftain - he is at least where.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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We are always in fire and water.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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When your hand is firm.
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The Lord has prepared trials for us;
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They baptized us with a whip, they tore off our crosses.
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And the bullets told us
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But still, they didn't reach the heart.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Your princes or horde.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Bolsheviks or gentlemen.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Bloody suffering boils.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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The Cossack star is burning.
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Space, like mash, roams through the blood;
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We are stubborn, like steppe horses,
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Mother Russia, call us -
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The fighting Cossacks will not let you down.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Spring water will surge.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Russia will rise from under the ice.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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We will return the temples to the cities.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Do not die of shame.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Your princes or horde.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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Bolsheviks or gentlemen.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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The Cossack star is burning.
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Oh yes, grief is not a problem,
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We win as always. |