So here is the Russian folk,
And other people of the world.
We wait until their culture knock,
In our doors, traditions - gold.
Their culture burns with soul of freedom,
But our hearts are strict in middle,
In middle of the rules and chaos,
In iron gloves? in past of malice.
Our soul and conscious are unknown,
For their freedom mind build,
We bare with problems on our own,
We help each other, people meld.
But still our soul is inviting.
The foreign culture and traditions,
Their colours and the ways they fighting,
Their characters and dispositions,
Will once may be by us accepted,
But we must not loose our grip.
We still are Russians, iron hearted.
For our dreams. And motherland.