Романс Колчака [Romans Kolchaka] [English translation]

A piece of ground beaten with winds

Revolver will crackle like a dry branch

White taiga will paint it's eyes

With pines' brows (branches) covered with hoarfrost

God, I pray you to care of the people who I'm leaving

On this sweet ground but ground that forgets such a big number of things

I pray, come into my home, close all windows tightly

That they couldn't see the bloody footprint out of window

Now I'm ready

Gentlemen or what's way I should call you,*

You can't work with good faith and fidelity

If you don't know what the faith is.

And if the truth is dirty for you

If you burn the heaven over the country**

Do not dare to tear away my guard shoulder straps

Do not dare to touch with your paw my Russian orders

Your institute students should learn your revolutionary gibberish (not we)

Let young cadets come to their mothers***

I let myself to forget your petty and black mind

But I can't forget the dirty revolver,

And your standing there in the hour of my death improperly dressed,

Your not shaved cheeks and this awful smell of alcohol****

Now I'm ready

Gentlemen or what's way I should call you,

You can't work with good faith and fidelity

If you don't know what the faith is.

And if the truth is dirty for you

If you burn the heaven over the country

I'm taking the last parade for me*****

My regiments serve the tzar's crown

The holy father, the holy father - (he would be) the interlocutor of my dying soul

But he with his broken face has fallen to the snow******

The ground can't stand you and the sea can't*******

Right, you can learn yourself how to kill your enemies

But you should believe me, believe me - a millennium will repudiate

The people who have changed it for one year