On Moscow's arms: the hero slays the serpent.
It lies in blood. He—swathed in light. —Well purposed!

So, in the name of God and of the living Word,
Come down from yonder gates, thou watchman of the Lord!

Give us our freedom back, bold knight, their life—to them.
Appointed guard of Moscow—from yon gates descend!

And show—both to the people and the dragon—
That when men sleep—icons take up the battle.