So we've got you over here, brothers of Cain's blood,
messengers of the night, who stab backs with a dagger,
so we've got you over here, brothers, grandchildren of Stalin,
though not like yesterday, today it's without the lilacs,
though thanks for an iron doves of peace,
and thanks for the kisses with taste of bitter almonds,
in the idyllic land they've killed the faith,
on the road are the red rosehips as a memorial to the fallen.
To you our gratitude and warms hugs,
for provocation and shooting at the children,
and let our homes be your homes,
the witnesses are the graveyards smelling of lead,
I know, it'd be mistake to spit on the memorials,
to us the hope remains, we were and we will be!
Thank you very much, brothers-occupators!
Thank you so much, we will never forget!
We will never forget!