Book: Minin and Pozharsky

For the glorious city of Moscow!

Only a foolish blind man will reject his fortune!

What could be more beautiful than fame? In battle, on a bivouac on sleepless nights, what do I dream of? About her!

Pour the last cups before the fight. And let's shout - vivat! - so that the firmament trembled! The ardent one will drink to scarlet lips, the dreamer to glory, and the wise to death!

We will be able to drive out Lithuania il Poles. Now, if the governor of strife, the judges of unrighteous extortions and the whim of the boyar to incinerate!

Is our land forgotten by God? My dear Volga is silent, but here in the silence I hear the groans of the poor, I hear the cry of the ruined orphans, I hear the great cry of the people, and my soul is inflamed with fire, and a distant voice calls me to exploit.

The Russian land has not been impoverished by the brave and the century will not be impoverished.

Chains do not allow me to write, but they do not interfere with thinking.

Mortal doom has come to us! Our people remained with one soul and body, they can no longer tolerate it. In the villages, people die, the Mother's Mother's House is covered with blood. We have a heavy enemy's goo.