Here comes from the depth the dark army
And demands an answer from the world
Beautiful dawns glim in our dripping scythe is all of the flag we have
We dare a fight for our resigned right
And lift in the weather on disgrace's board
The thousand-year-chain we bore

We own the earth just under rag or shred
Only this our crusted hand
For the human conditions we received a miserable council

We harrowed your field, wе cut your sheafs
We groomed your horsе
We listened behind the stable to the rats' play
When you went decorated to the fest
You dreamed on bolsters, we slumbered on straw
Were the animal is a neighbor, and the air is nauseous
And tuberculosis comes as a guest

Well are we a cowed and working heap
Or servants in prosperity's yard
Society's ash a depressed job
That scrapes his abscess with a scissor
Soon turns for the pane, however, discord's lightning
Look up, pals, it dawns in the cloud
Liberation's ore bell strikes!
We cry it inside through hatch and threshold
Where rumbling flails go
Come from your stinking stable chamber home
Look out from the tilting corners
For the front the reveille now rings its sound
Let despondence sink, come hum on our song
Your dawn stands on the panes

Yes, drop what pushed on shoulder and mind
And turn against light your hate
You still have youth's blush on the cheek
And remnants of recklessness' treasure

When we plow jollily our waving land
When first we have freed our cowed stand
From thousand-year-servitude's night