We were going step by step, we were rushing in battles And we were holding an apple, a song in our teeth But my friend was carrying a song about a distant land In his saddle, he was singing, looking at his native lands Grenada, Grenada, my Grenada He was singing this song from his mouth Where did this Spanish sadness come from? The sunrise rose and fell again And the horse got tired of galloping with the steppes Where is your song, my friend? Grenada, Grenada, my Grenada A pierced body crawled to the ground My friend left his saddle for the first time I saw the moon leaning over the corpse And the dead lips whispered Grenada Since then, the native lands have not heard Grenada, Grenada, my Grenada The detachment did not notice the loss of the soldier And the apple sang the song to the end He came up with new songs about life No need, guys, to stifle the song No need, no need, no need, my friends Grenada, Grenada, my Grenada Grenada, Grenada, my Grenada