The smog's hanging over the Cossack village
That's the Ataman's smoking (1)
The Cossack men and women are guzzling moonshine
The corral is filled with the prime of mat (2a),
The captain lies dead drunk(2b)
And the whole yard is blocked with empty bottles
And while the front seems calm,
The whole village is eavesdropping
We drink our moonshine, ready to face death
But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,
Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike ! (3)
Outside in the yard the accordion is playing,
And the booze flows like a river
Yes, a true Cossack never gets tired of drinking
A Liter, two, or four or five, yes, pour me some more
Old women have been tired down of brewing moonshine
And while the front seems calm,
The whole village is eavesdropping
We drink our moonshine, ready to face death
But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,
Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike !
But if trouble should suddenly arise, if the enemy horde
Should suddenly desire to play a dirty trick
Let the enemy not rock the boat,
Lest we would all fall into the water
With his saber, a Cossack will even charge a tank
And while the front seems calm,
The whole village is eavesdropping
We drink our moonshine, ready to face death
But if the monstruous enemy, should attack our people,
Ataman, lead the charge ! Raise your saber to strike !