Ночь темна была и не месячна.
Рать скучна была и не весела:
Все солдатики пригорюнились,
Пригорюнившись, — да заплакали;
Не отцов родных оплакивали,
И не жен своих, и не детушек;
Как оплакивали мать родимую,
Мать родимую, мать кормилицу,
Златоглавую Москву-матушку,
Разоренную Бонапартием!
Ночь темна была и не месячна.
The night was dark and not monthly.
The fellow was boring and not cheerful:
All the soldiers were displeased
Having become disheartened, they began to cry;
They did not mourn their fathers,
And not their wives, and not their children;
How they mourned their dear mother,
Mother dear, mother a nurse,
Golden-domed Mother Moscow,
Ruined by the Bonaparte!
The night was dark and not monthly.