N.R.M. - Maye pakalenne (Маё пакаленне) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

My generation.

My generation grew in the darkness,
Now the darkness is also the light for it.
My generation grew on the border
With the iron curtain in the soul itself.
My generation is hiding in the shadow,
In the world of dreams, in the days that gone.
My generation plays and drinks,
Stays on its knees, does not love itself.
 
Buy dollars, sell rubles,
And then away from this land.
'We are free birds, it's time, my friend, it's time!'*
On tired wings to the south or to paradise.
My generation is sitting at the table,
Is sitting in prison and is sitting on the needle,**
It is sitting in office and loves to moan,
And one has to stand up and it is difficult to stand upright.
 
We, Belarusians, with brotherly Russia
Were looking for our roads to happiness.
In battles for freedom, in battles for a fortune
The way has won over us.
We are united, by nothing less than
By taking part in the stupid fight.
Glory to Kolas, glory to Kupala!***
But where is my place here beside you?
 
Remorse, suffering of soul.
My generation, my 'nostalgia'.
Your basements, your garages,
Scribbled walls, life on the edge.
 
As if very recently, as if a long time ago
coffee is cold and wine is finished.
My generation is waving its wing,
'Is pecking bloody food by the window.'*
 


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