We are rich in their work


Beat the clock on the Spasskaya Tower,
The sun rose over Moscow.
Cities, forests and fields
Labor Day meet.

Awake rivers, mountains,
Steppe, northern ice
Our Russian expanses,
Ukrainian gardens.

On patrols, polustanki,
meadows villages and villages,
On Trohgorke on Taganka
Bright-eyed day has come!


Chorus:
And sing whistles, trains, singing in the way,
Singing field, praising the sunrise,
Cities are singing,
Soviet land, the people, the hero sings!

From the Volga region to the Amur, from Polesie to Lake Baikal,
From the gray peaks of the Caucasus to the Altai virgin land
Our righteous friendship is stronger than solid metal,
We are rich in their work, the truth of Lenin's true!

Golden dawn spill
Over the fatherland burns.
Word affection and greetings
Heart heart says.

Pleasure to work
Honor for the honor, with a twinkle,
With all his heart wanting to merge
With a total happiness entirely!

Ardor of work increases
Tirelessly, passionately,
And shoulders, as it should,
Others feel the shoulder!

Chorus. 1947