你不过是芸芸众生。我们数不清的国民，好像深岸上的沙。我们是斯基泰人!我们是眯眼的亚洲人!跟我们开战吧，别想了!你已经有好几个世纪了。我们有一个小时。就像农奴对封建领主的服从，我们在两个敌对势力之间充当盾牌——旧欧洲和野蛮的蒙古部落。你那古老的铁匠铺已经摧毁了时代，淹没了遥远的雪崩的轰鸣。墨西拿，里斯本——这些，你以为，是某些奇异的传奇爱情书中的书页。 Full centuries long you've watched our Eastern lands, Fished for our pearls and bartered them for grain; Made mockery of us, while you laid your plans And oiled your cannon for the great campaign. The hour has come. Doom wheels on beating wing. Each day augments the old outrageous score. Soon not a trace of dead nor living thing Shall stand where once your Paestums flowered before. O Ancient World, before your culture dies, Whilst failing life within you breathes and sinks, Pause and be wise, as Oedipus was wise, And solve the age-old riddle of the Sphinx. That Sphinx is Russia. Grieving and exulting, And weeping black and bloody tears enough, She stares at you, adoring and insulting, With love that turns to hate, and hate-to love. Yes, love! For you of Western lands and birth No longer know the love our blood enjoys. You have forgoten there's a love on Earth That burns like fire and, like all fire, destroys. We love cold Science passionately pursued; The visionary fire of inspiration; The salt of Gallic wit, so subtly shrewd, And the grim genius of th German nation. We know the hell of a Parisian street, And Venice, cool in water and in stone; The scent of lemons in the southern heat; The fuming piles of soot-begrimed Cologne. We love raw flesh, its color and its stench. We love to taste it in our hungry maws. Are we to blame then, if your ribs should crunch, Fragile between our massive, gentle paws? We know just how to play the cruel game Of breaking in the most rebellious steeds; And stubborn captive maids we also tame And subjugate, to gratify our needs? Come join us, then! Leave war and war's alarms, And grasp the hand of peace and amity. While still there's time, Comrades, lay down your arms! Let us unite in true fraternity! But if you spurn us, then we shall not mourn. We too can reckon perfidy no crime, And countless generations yet unborn Shall curse your memory till the end of time. We shall abandon Europe and her charm. We shall resort to Scythian craft and guile. Swift to the woods and forests we shall swarm, And then look back, and smile our slit-eyed smile. Away to the Urals, all! Quick, leave the land, And clear the field for trial by blood and sword, Where steel machines that have no soul must stand And face the fury of the Mongol horde. But we ourselves, henceforth, we shall not serve As henchmen holding up the trusty shield. We'll keep our distance and, slit-eyed, observe The deadly conflict raging on the field. We shall not stir, even though the frenzied Huns Plunder the corpses of the slain in battle, drive Their cattle into shrines, burn cities down, And roast their white-skinned fellow men alive. O ancient World, arise! For the last time We call you to the ritual feast and fire Of peace and brotherhood! For the last time O hear the summons of the barbarian lyre!