Childhood. Christmas time is here.
Our children's holiday
It's still closer to us children
Since it's Child God in the hay
Bright the stars are on the fir-tree
Brightly flicker candle lights
Christmas gift is hidden somewhere
Look, under the tree it lies!

Days of youth. Sweet Christmas's here
And I walk my girlfriend home
Would be wondrous with my sweetheart
In the fields forever roam
Bright the stars are in the heavens
To her doorstep here we come…
She has lips as sweet as honey
Soft and gentle, hot as rum!

Cold and dread in dirty trenches
Death's triumphant bloody gait
People everywhere in Europe
Bloody Christmas celebrate
Bright are rockets in the heavens
They help cripple healthy men
Man to man sends Christmas presents
With gunfire again and again

Foreign land. We are in Paris
Christmas old style glorify
The closest friends have come to visit
For a modest holiday
Bright the stars were back in Russia
There in my native land
With all my passion I pray to my Lord
Offer her a helping hand!