Ещё не вечер [Esche ne vecher] [English translation]

For seven years we scoured the seven seas

And at our mast we flew the Jolly Roger

We learned to mend our ship in storm or breeze

And if a plank were sprung, by Christ we’d bodge her!

The British navy’s firing shots across our bows 

The sea's dead calm; the crew is all hung-over

But the captain merely smiles at us and vows:

It isnae over until it's over!

The flagship frigate turns herself broadside

And clouds of smoke start pouring from her scuppers

Audaciously our cannons then reply

Destruction! Death! We’re singing for our suppers!

We've been through worse; it looks like our luck's in

But storms are brewing; and we're holed, moreover.

The captain shouts above the hellish din:

- IT ISNAE OVER until it's over!

Through telescopes a hundred glaring eyes

Spy us grey and smoky from our sallies

But they will never view us in the guise

Of slaves chained up to oars in navy galleys!

We've been outgunned! Our ship is gaunnae sink!

We'll never get tae see the cliffs of Dover!

But our captain doesnae ever even blink!

- It isnae over until it's over!

Who wants to live, who's merry, keep your grip -

And prepare yourself for vicious cutthroat fighting!

We’ll let the rats get off the sinking ship -

We can dae wi'oot them at our ankles biting!

The rats were thinking that the captain lied

ABANDON SHIP! They all died sober!

But we heave to along the frigate's side.

- It isnae over until it's over!

Knife tae cutlass, fist tae gullet, eye tae eye!

Lest we be food for octopus or conger,

Our pistols and our sabers make them cry, -

Their vessel'll no be floating for much longer!

But it's not meant to be, she'll no gae DOON

She'll carry us to port – we'll be in clover

For the ocean never lets the sailor DROON

Wha doesnae say it's over… until it's over.