Velesar - Dzikie Pola (pieśń o kozackiej sławie)

Wild Fields - a song of Cossack fame

Food is enough for us,
And the saber silent laughter.
Not sick for us,
And death in a coward's bed,
We don't know the master or the king of the hand.
A hot fire burns within us,
It will never bend,
A proud Cossack neck!

To the sounds of bandura*,
Evenings pass us by,
Blazing selfkiller*,
It burns a trace in the soul,
But when the enemy will bring war,
A brother will stand by his brother's side,
Our anger like a hurricane,
They have incinerated the whole world!

Where where the wild steppe,
Where racing with the wind,
Out there for freedom,
A song of our fame,
What will be,
And when the fires go out,
We will go to sleep,
Through the barrows a shadow.

Food is enough for us,
Because why take care of tomorrow?
Death can be treacherous,
Cross out every plan,
Better with the eternal brother-moon
Drain a cup or two,
And then - to the horse!
And run off into the blue distance...

There Where the wild steppe,
Where racing with the wind,
There the freedom of the call,
A song of our fame,
What will be,
And when the fires go out,
We will go to sleep,
Through the barrows there is a shadow.

bandura - from greek pandora 'all giving', ukrainian instrument

samogon - hooch