as it happens, i’m all feeling, then i’m going to sleep, i’m going to sleep. skіnaetstsa shchyra

radstsyu napaўnyaetstsa, ahmu little fish zamkotsіtstsa over all the earth.

dory, my belarus, only i will walk higher than you, alas.

and yes, for the edge of the sky, the month of memory floats in the clouds, the heat will come out, like may has passed. i’ll walk on the grass, i’ll walk on the grass, i’ll walk on the grass and my bare feet, from the distant paplava i’ll swim like a crayfish,

the ice is noticeable, the sums of my coats, i’ll rest on the youth. let's catch up with you, let's catch up with you, let's sip your snack, oh, like goodness, like a jumper zhyts, raskaya, krosalchyna, luska. and in the hell of the month there is a fire, and in the grass there is a dewy swarm, and for roses there is a white seed, and my charming

belarusian land.

my bark, here is my bright tumshina! from the foothills of the wild wind and the honey hills of the slaughterhouse.

pozakshani chenі koseye, oh, we are a cossack, what is not sowed, sing sow ye from the edge. i’m already leaving, i’m running, good evening, goat, i’m grieving, great people.

naadarodku zgaya, how udziachny. i didn’t know that kosaka on the path, call me a fighter yao.

vanya hodzitsya on the streets, vanya hodzitsya on the streets, yon plowing, yon plowing, azhyvanaya, katsyusha is on vakoshka, katsyusha is on vakoshka, he ’s looking, he’s looking, and you vanya, you’re not idzi, vaganyusha, gurgle, you’re not idzi, vanyusha, vuly, i’m perablyka, yes i’m perablyka, you’re not the voice of the krychy, you’re not the voice krychy, saplanya.

our skin journey on paless is a genuine cultural-historical expedition. we came out to this hill, which is big, then we saw that somewhere we could stop, build houses, a forest nearby, well, it turned out like joy from this word joy, well, that’s what they say, they called it joy, this is our kosovo brukovka, so called, brook, this is a cobblestone, a stone, an acre of land, a vyaliznaya krynitsa fabric,

in our show, cheat sheets will not help the participants, is it true that demarcation is the process of marking the state border on the ground. yaroslav, what do you think? i took it as a basis that the word demarcation contains, well, the root of the word marking, which can lead to the fact that this is really the process of marking the state border. what kind of process is tacotation? what we can do here is... it doesn’t matter how many zeros there are, but there will be eight at the end, and we 1 + 8 = 9, and that it went far, it’s just possible to put it briefly, please state what you are going for with a game that will not leave anyone indifferent, i chose option b, i don’t know such a bird, but i know the rifle that at the beginning postscript

in latin letters sig, oh, you are observant, berag is dear, a lighthouse above, asvetsits as my dark path is ahead.

zamlya father, azern is my land. it didn’t burn and died, but it’s holy, and the heat isn’t too hot, and the flippers flapping above us are far away behind the blue laps of the hut. like a beacon on the steep slopes, calling for us to give, days and beginnings. the sounds of the bars and krynits rang out to your singing voices,

the poisonous spirits hovered around us here, you are our superior warrior, and we are your caresses. they didn’t forget, far away relatives, behind the blue capes, through the house, like may, like the wind, calling us to our days and beginnings, to the voices of our chanting voices.

father's land, my land is azern, you are burned with your share of harshness. you give me strength, you give me strength, so that the frond of a frog can dance for me, far away, over-the-top, with all the dances, your dzekhana on the steep slopes, calling for us. home days and the beginning of our chanting voices from afar

perekrodny zasіni belyasami dzekata yakavna kruchytsya cry for us to the future days. and we begin with our vocal voices, not the closest one and the gift of the world, i’m so tired of hell that you... are with me, pakul zhivaty, we are sitting together, mother, as i want to hear your voice.

you carry our roofs and mountains, on old beaches, on sick hands, you are in my dreams. tank gavorysh і ў sadze garyts on the viburnum is clear, for the holy caster

i play for the krynichak vacchy scenes and dabra, for the holy caster the memory is dark. dats may sagravae soul for the holy caster, the zvetoga caster will tie together, like nizhashyny nabras, for the holy patrebne understand. mine, warming the soul for the holy father, will spin. there are no

secrets of ours, there are no bassos zhurvai, only you gay mask is sneshna, and the fire itself is burning, for the holy castras. i'm enjoying the lyad krynichak vacheyshchy scenes and dabra for the holy one, the memory of may is zagravae soul like the holy caster for the holy caster zagrala.

memory of may, sagravae suzchu for the saint.

i'm going to the house, in reality, in a dream, my mother and dad are chatting to me, i'm going to the house, and my relatives byaroz, my mother and my father love their forest, my good son’s day, my mother feels. lasochak, and my father's basok, i 'm my son, good day, my son, my mother and father's basok, i'm my son, i'm going to the huts from the markotay wine, like mom and dad, they're damned mom and

tattoo... abstain to my shepherd, i’m going to the hut, and march is ablyatsets, day is good son, matuli chuvats galasochak, and moreover, father’s vassok, i’m here for you, i’m son. i'm... going to the house, i'm going to the house, i'm going to the house, avartab lyatsets, i'm going to the huts, and varta latsets, i'm going to the huts, and varta latsets, belarus is a heta vyalik gascinny house, so everyone lives with me. and then,

and caress and jump with the gassy gas, you need to marry us with belarus, so that our belarusian gas can be smeared, patched up. i am grusy, parana, pavyats and palyamnitsa, did not give marhatstsa, mistress, enchantress adhodzitsa, we pile, memory, belarusian extinguishing, belarus.

tivaya is vesen, although i can’t wait, you’re triggered and done, don’t look at the shelf, for the old man i’m fighting, the bush is cheerful, my sister’s oily, the sun has grown cheerful, we are flying, there is no salt, leather gas, belarusian gadzina, belarusian beauty, the elephant is having fun, there is no joy here,

and there is a lot of music in the river in the field. let's fall like a scythe, the terrible sounds of the bastard are clicking and jumping, you know, your crimea, vasa, belarusian extinguisher, belarusian extinguisher. fun to come here belarusian hospitality belarusian hospitality had fun chukhaliso.

folk song is our history, our soul, our shrine. pavin's song is not easy to hum, pavin's song is to breathe, what a month, what a light, the night is bright, and the day is not, what a little friend. kalі come, kalі not,

all people, all people seem, all people gavarats, soram dzeuka, saram red, know from the evening walk, dzyauchynachtsy kepsk sleep. i began to cry and sigh, i began to cry, i began to get sick, i began to cry, i began to cry, i did n’t cry, i didn’t cry, i krasla, i’ll go to hell, i’m in full swing. and garacha, i’ll marry

you, let’s get married to you! letsy song of the existence of cancer, among the bezmezhzhy, bottomless, wide, padpyavae oy ulad asaka, s from the high ones, this song, from the early race, from the melody of the sung sal'ezza, and the burning truths of the tears, the dakranets and the sir. kali forest, fog,

fog, kalia fox, and fog, tu'.

race krastsіray race, beauty, high, high, thick, koran.

the forest and tuguma are so wide for the leaves.

lyuli-lyuli, oh, only the lads pass, oh, lyuli-lyuli, oh, zyauchynu, so translate, oh, lyuli-lyuli, oh, zyauchyny, oh, lyuli-lyuli, and oh , strengthened, oh, lyu li, lyuli , don’t cry , dzeuka, don’t cry, bilali, oh, lyuli, as soon as i get out of service, when i look at the tab, i’m worried, fight lyuli-lyuli, how i serve, i serve you, oh, lyuli-lyuli, so on the tab i’m sorry, you oh, lyuli-lyuli, how i serve the service, you, oh,

lyuli, lyuli, on the tab i’m sorry, you ! oh lyuli-lyuli, bargaroy, kalina, parkaraya, kalina, kalina, kalina, beauty, masha, kalina, kalina, kalina, beautiful kalina, the light of khalina.

pack kalina, pack kalina, kalina, kalina, beautiful masha, kalina, kalina, kalina, beautiful kalinina, hey!

passed by the people of the dzeuka, crying cossacks of the youth, don’t cry. don’t cry a cossack, don’t cry a sir, don’t cry, as i sit on the pasada, go to a sir

please! i don’t want my daughter on that pasad dzivitsіs lepsh i ’ll go, i’m my daughter blowing the river tapitsits not like a cossack woman. don’t worry, young ones, it seems like people who know that you don’t like me, you

little sherygusi, didn’t palamulate. the people were feeding the dzeuk, crying like young cossacks, the people were plowing the dzeuk, crying the cossacks were young.

no, the palukha has given me wings, goodness to you, my you give me your sides, e, my dust in the sky, the man brought forth his matzitsa for me, his success for me.

go to the christmas tree, you go to the christmas tree, go, cheer, shout out, say it.

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hello, belarus 1 and belarus 24 are on air. weekly information and analytical program editor's club. always on friday evenings with a repeat sunday early in the morning we discuss the main topics of the coming week, according to tradition, i introduce the guests who came to our studio today on makalenka 9, we start with dmitry zhuk, the head holding sb belarus today, good evening, olga shpilevskaya, director of the representative office of mtrk mir in belarus, chairman of the belarusian women's union, marat markov, chairman of the board of jsc second national tv channel, oleg aidukevich.