Along the crying earth, not feeling jackboots,
Our bloodless detachment's escaping from the enemies
Is eating sorrel leaves on the run,
Is staying overnight in a gully under an arrow-wood bush.
It's impossible to rest for us -- run away, run away, run away.
And our pretending friends are staying abroad.
And watching closely how we are being beaten.
And only the long roads are absolutely for us.
Wipe your tears, rest a little,
I'm Russian road.
Retreat and I cover your retreat
with mud and water.
But they're head over ears in mud, up to eyes in water.
Some time later the enemies ran us down again.
they're attacking us more strongly, are just about to overkill us.
But the biting frosts are rushing to help us.
Rest, wipe your bitter tears,
We are Russian frosts.
As enticing by Moscow, we'll freeze the enemies,
cover them with melancholy.
The nature is like our own mother in the war,
But it was time to hide, now it's time to advance,
And soon we're appeared in the enemy towns.
And began to destroy all around, oversmashed.
Broke off to pieces, thrashed into ruins.
And as crushing, we explained the moaning enemies.
Remember our strange tactical method.
When we retreat - it means we advance.
Together with frosts and forests, Susanin's ahead.
Just God gave us Russian road.
Russian road, Russian road, Russian road.