Into the cold, into the cold Away from the long-occupied places Other cities call to us, As if to Minsk, as if to Brest, Into the cold, into the cold For good reason, for good reason The severe places beckon us Away from our native poplar trees As if it’s more merry there, For good reason, for good reason... Why aren’t we warm at home - There aren’t always enough New encounters and new friends, As if it’s a misfortune to us, As if it’s warmer with them... Why shouldn’t it sometimes Be good for us - We return to our houses. Where is our star? Perhaps here, perhaps there.
© Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?