Я уеду туда, где распят на кресте
Небольшой, но отважный народ
Я уеду туда, где в ночной темноте
О свободе волынка поет
В косах счастья шотландского – седина
А у смерти английский оскал
Англичане, долой! Это наша земля!
Это наш ветер северных скал!
У стрелка англичан порвалась тетива
А у рыцаря конь захромал
Go home, english dogs, this is our land,
For an our cray and smile
Go home, english dogs, this is our land,
For an our cray and smile
I will leave where they are crucified on the cross
Small but brave people
I will leave where in the night darkness
Singing a bagpipes sings about freedom
In the braids of the happiness of Scottish - gray hair
And death has English grinning
The British, Down! This is our land!
This is our wind of the northern rocks!
The arrow of the British torn a bow
And the knight was sobbing
Go Home, English Dogs, this is our land,
For an our Cray and Smile
Go Home, English Dogs, this is our land,
For an our Cray and Smile
