To the river sets the sun under evening sky glow,
All that happened and did not, we knew in advance.
Just a bullet will catch up with a cossack, - I know, -
Just a bullet will knock him down from the horse.
Either planed off birch or pine shroud my fate will mend:
Quiet sunset ain't good sign, it will lead to strife.
Just a sabre in the steppe is my only girlfriend,
Just a sabre in the steppe's my faithful wife.
Cold on John the Baptist feast, summer heat for Christmas -
We don't care either way: swelter or snow web.
Only cossack's black felt cloak is his home and mistress,
Only felt cloak is his bed throughout the steppe.
Put aside thy scythe, Old Crone, for another moment,
We will finish our song though Thou'lt never cease.
In the steppe the cossack's song is his only comfort,
Only with a song he can meet his death in peace.