Revolution

Our caravan is waiting for the floors,

It is sitting on the back of the intestines and the storm. 

You come and move, we will walk together,

A firebomb grew in the stomach of the land, grew up,

Swaraj of hunger will not be able to last

Together, we will be crushed head of troubles.

Fire is bad, the stomach is bad

Will not be able to suppress, one day it will become a revolution,

Palaces of oppression will fall, new houses will be built again.