My comrade, in your death-agony
Don't call your friends in vain!
Instead, let me warm my hands
Over your steaming blood.

Don't you weep, don't moan,
You are no small child
You are not hurt, you have simply been killed.
Let me take your boots as a keepsake,
For we shall yet have to advance.

My comrade, I thank you,
For you are the hero of our land
Our Motherland, my comrade
Hero of the glorious Soviet Union.