Trwoga [English translation]

The rifle rusts buried in soil,

the weapon of grandfather.

The sabre sleeps in a holder

recalling the old tribes.

Hand grenades - a gift from father -

wrapped in beautiful rags

lay on the shelf and fancy

about exploding finally.

You’ve got the will and you’re willing

to go to the battlefield

and to hit someone like a thunder,

but there's no one you can hit.

It's frightening, people, very frightening!

We must find an enemy!

Otherwise, men and women,

we will kill each other. (x2)

The times became more peaceful.

Love and elation reign the world,

no one would spit on others,

all just negotiate, trying to

find some kind of consensus.

Russians make business

and Kraut walks on the “Bridge of Friendship”,

he has already forgotten “Drang nach Osten”.

Only sometimes an Ossetian

takes his rifle from the shed,

but the world dresses up to the nines

and people think only about sex.

It's frightening, people, very frightening!

We must find an enemy!

Otherwise, men and women,

we will kill each other. (x2)

So the people with great attention

write a petition to the Parliament:

“We appeal to create a Parliament’s

Subcommittee on Hate!”

But already before they voted,

they had started fighting with each other,

so I found - with my neighbour -

a temporary solution:

On Wednesday he’ll be my enemy

and on Saturday I can be his villain,

but on Sunday, as on every Sunday,

we’ll meet again in church.

It's frightening, people, very frightening!

We must find an enemy!

Otherwise, men and women,

we will kill each other. (x4)