Skofka, KALUSH - Батьківщина

Bullets-morons were flying because they had no right to speak,
Freedom is a girl who loves home, but she wouldn't give to ruskym,
Bullets-morons were flying because they had no right to speak,
Freedom is a girl who loves home, but she wouldn't give to ruskym.

From there, where people had no freedom, those quiet voices come from,
And from where the ink was poured, it is clear that there is no cleanliness there,
How much our Motherland has been through, it is still young,
You took off the yellow autumn dress, and you put on the camouflage one.

And it was not the sun that fell on the ninth floor,
I look at the yard through a new window.
The angel lives here only as my guard,
because It was not the sun that fell on the ninth floor.

No matter how much you shoot at our land,
No matter how long you burn the fields,
Our motherland will live forever,
The land will give us a good harvest many more times.

No matter how much you shoot at our land,
No matter how long you burn the fields,
Our motherland will live forever,
The land will give us a good harvest many more times.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
They will rip the throat out for the trident here.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
Our guys will quietly creep up.