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 itís more merry there, For good reason, for good reason... Why arenít we warm at home - There arenít always enough New encounters and new friends, As if itís a misfortune to us, As if itís warmer with them... Why shouldnít it sometimes Be good for us - We return to our houses. Where is our star? Perhaps here, perhaps there.
© Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?