These people desperately want us all to leave:
“This land is wrong for you, under the Sultan live,”
We disagree, refusing to surrender to these lies,
For every ten spies here, there will be fifteen spies.
The Cossacks’ squads are merciless in clashes,
They wear fezs, too, and slash our backs with lashes.
We’ll never get from thieves and thugs a fair deal,
’Cause each of them is happy from a hungry man to steal.
So, thanks, but no thanks, we have no desire
To jump from the frying pan right into the fire.
When our towns pack up and leave, then we shall all agree
To leave this land for good, taking along our history.
Here we were born, and destined were to die,
With this country Tengri chose our people to tie.
We want to stay in Russia when the land is free.
You won’t make us leave, dark souls, this you’ll never see!
Leaving one’s home requires special courage:
Why won’t you go their first? Bon Voyage!
1907
В оригинале на татарском: Китмибез!
В переводе на русский язык: Не уйдем! (Перевод Р.Бухараева)