Descended to the steppe in the evening before rest, And the sun is fading above the clouds. It grows on the mound beyond the Don River A stern flower is immortelle.
As if from his petals, And a stalk of leaden color. Standing on the mound near the river The flower is not bent by the wind.
With him next to the crest of the mound The Cossack is young, white-toothed, And his blood is a warm trickle Runs from the forehead to the cold lips.
I wanted to grab a blue feather grass Cossack before the very death, Yes, everything was crushed, scattered into dust. Only one remained immortal.
With him there is a Cossack on the strip of land With the broken lies a machine gun. And he did not leave, and they did not leave, Soldiers of the fascist infantry.
To death, a young Cossack could survive And in his eternal memory he was bright, Remained an immortelle to guard him, A severe victory is a witness.