Into cold, into cold From our old cozy nests Other cities are beckoning us, Whether Minsk or itís Brest, - Into cold, into cold... Not for nothing it seems From the hometown trees These harsh places are beckoning us, As if they are more fun, - Not for nothing it seems... Although home keeps us warm, We still lack every time New encounters and new faithful friends, As if weíre in distress, And itís warmer with them... And no matter how well Sometimes we feel afar, We still keep coming back home to bear. Where is then our star? Maybe here, maybe there...
© ?. Translation, 2019