Let's pour a drink, O brethren, into a crystal goblet
So that a sword won't take us, that bullets may miss
All our dear heads!
So that a sword won't take us, that bullets may miss
All our dear heads!
So that our Ukraine may no longer weep,
So that our glory, our Kozak glory,
Forever may not be lost.
So that our glory, our Kozak glory,
Forever may not be lost.
For the Kozak glory is blood spilled out,
Chopped by the axe, minced by the sword,
Yet washed by (the rain) tears.
Chopped by the axe, minced by the sword,
Yet washed by( the rain) tears.
Let us sing, O brethren, while we still have strength,
Till we march out, till the setting of the sun,
When buglers will not sound.
Till we march out, till the setting of the sun,
When buglers will not sound.