Stand up, Ingria, wake well up to work,
the twilight reflects morning yet to you.
The light into the night of your life
is spreading, oh, beloved fatherland.

Once another time the beautiful melody
will echo through the dearest fatherland,
there will be a victory of light and freedom,
the folk will go to sing with joy.

Brighting yet in rays of morning
the hope wakes in hearts of your children.
Stand up, Ingria, the night is ending,
stand up, stand up, your moment is beating.

[And with] furious hearing the call
then it echoes with full breast:
Stand up, Ingria, your song is sounding,
stand up, the twilight is changing to the daylight!