III

The lads have all gone to the wars
to serve in the Red Guard ~
to serve in the Red Guard ~
and risk their hot heads for the cause.

Hell and damnation,
life is such fun
with a ragged greatcoat
and a Jerry gun!

To smoke the nobs out of their holes
we-ll light a fire through all the world,
a bloody fire through all the world -
Lord, bless our souls!

XII

... On they march with sovereign tread...
-Who else goes there? Come out! I said
come out!- It is the wind and the red
flag plunging gaily at their head.

The frozen snow-drift looms in front.
-Who-s in the drift! Come out! Come here!-
There-s only the homeless mongrel runt
limping wretchedly in the rear...

-You mangy beast, out of the way
before you taste my bayonet.
Old mongrel world, clear off I say!
I-ll have your hide to sole my boot!

The shivering cur, the mongrel cur
bares his teeth like a hungry wolf,
droops his tail, but does not stir...
-Hey answer, you there, show yourself.-

-Who-s that waving the red flag?-
-Try and see! It-s as dark as the tomb!-
-Who-s that moving at a jog
trot, keeping to the back-street gloom?-

-Don-t you worry ~ I-ll catch you yet;
better surrender to me alive!-
-Come out, comrade, or you-ll regret
it ~ we-ll fire when I-ve counted five!-

Crack ~ crack ~ crack! But only the echo
answers from among the eaves...
The blizzard splits his seams, the snow
laughs wildly up the wirlwind-s sleeve...

Crack ~ crack ~ crack!
Crack ~ crack ~ crack!
... So they march with sovereign tread...
Behind them limps the hungry dog,
and wrapped in wild snow at their head
carrying a blood-red flag ~
soft-footed where the blizzard swirls,
invulnerable where bullets crossed ~
crowned with a crown of snowflake pearls,
a flowery diadem of frost,
ahead of them goes Jesus Christ.