the trees of namuram are bright, the trees of namuram are shining, three pine trees are flocking, the magician is crowned with glory, and then it is falling...

alexandrina, as you were.

i can say that vasilyochak is a fair person, i can say that you are dear, i can say that you are invited, that’s why you have become so, may 17.

alexandrina, winter has passed, alexandrina, shukaga.

and λεξαν the tsyaper came. oh my, alexandrina,

i’m just kidding.

giving to the sirs, who are so sad, i can’t understand how early they are for me, what in the sky is given at the end of may’s day, for whom the ruzhavits,

payshlons, if they don’t come back, anyway. such fogs, burning dust, it’s a pity, the dark of entangled balots, as i praise the wound,

the bastards and the serts couldn’t extinguish theirs, they’re gone now and you won’t return, alesya, be... may’s servant was kahanaya, a flock of growths of the past, but the call is without, the same to the little birds, the little birds, cry. paishla ў rekhoў and і ўzho will not return alesya, be a servant, a khanaya, be, we flock to the lands

of the past, fall away. cry to the original pigs, cry and cry to the original shaurankals, sing and cry to the original shaurankas!

i thought everything would disappear before the morning, only my heart. for some reason yesterday is waiting, it will come again, the day has gone, he took the dream with him, alone without it, i walk like a shadow, come back to me, yesterday, where love goes,

i don’t know where it went, without it. in the brightness of the day, i thought everything would disappear before the morning, but for some reason my heart was waiting for yesterday to come again. yesterday will come again.

the song of the swan is clear. imniya charms, shepchutstsa yavar, from kalinayu, at sumnay danіne over the yaram, shepchutstsa yaga from kalina.

they are told to the sun by the dew of the day, they are washed

by the wound, they are told to the sun by the dew of the day. chuetstsa music dziўnaya vovestsakh snomykh іmsharam tseshatstsa yavar z kalіnayu. throw off

the winter spell, throw off the winter spell.

tv channel belarus 24 presents food has never been simple, at all times people wanted to eat deliciously and live well, a project that will show the diversity of belarusian cuisine, now the world will change, it will be divided into before and after the fish soup is cooked in chicken broth, oh well. but in belarus this recipe has been preserved, it is a hunter’s recipe, a duck in a pot is worldly reminiscent of a rich thick soup, because there is a lot of fat, and also introduce the tv viewer to the history and traditions of a particular area, the stove, what a medieval stove looked like,

ceramic, lined with brick, a box in which a fire was lit, but a large metal one was installed on top... nist in the 16th century, baron, the gypsy baron, jan martinkiewicz, built an estate for himself in the world and even rode around this estate in the surrounding area in a gilded carriage. we will draw up a detailed gastronomic map of our country; the project includes food anywhere. there are dishes that you definitely haven’t tried anywhere in the nearest district, and maybe throughout belarus. watch every sunday on our tv channel. their life in polesian villages and agricultural towns, contrary to all stereotypes, is bright and rich. here is my family, my children, my grandchildren, and my friends, everyone here comes to me to pick berries, mushrooms, see animals, walk through the forest,

hard work, resourcefulness, passion, look at poleshuk’s project, that is, poleshuk’s mentality is still stunned, he will pass on to this spadshin, what he has found for centuries will be passed on to his generation on tv channel belarus 24.

a sacred melody, a sacred distance, the light of a crystal dawn. the light rising above the world, your age-old sadness is incomprehensible. belovezhskaya pushcha, belovezhskaya pushcha, your age-old sadness is incomprehensible, belovezhskaya pushcha, belovezhskaya

pushcha, here is our long-forgotten parental shelter and. sometimes i hear the voice of my ancestors calling a gray forest bird from distant centuries, i fly to you. belovezhskaya pushcha shines with its centuries-old centuries. i fly to you. belovezhskaya pushcha.

i make my way along an inconspicuous path to the stream, where the grass is high, where it lays down, like my knees i drink from my knees your holy, spring truth, beloveshskaya pushcha generation. from your holy knee, the spring truth of belovezhskaya

pushcha near the tall birches, having warmed my heart , i will take it with me in consolation to the living. chant, miraculous chant, belovezhskaya pushcha, belovezhskaya pushcha, your miraculous chant flown on the dog, belovezhskaya pushcha, belovezhskaya pushcha.

your advisory chant, your miraculous chant. belovezhskaya pushcha, belovezhskaya pushcha.

you were and you weren’t, you were and you weren’t, where the borders are now. names, you don’t regret it, don’t you regret it, i’m burned out

before... and so that you feel warmer from my warmth, it happens, it happens, and those who follow us call the streets, the streets, our names, a thousand times, a thousand times our hearts will burn, and a thousand times the streets will remember us without end, no extracts. it happens, and those who

follow us, the streets, the streets are called ours, it happens, it happens, and those who follow us. streets, streets are called our exchanges.

you need to be at home, you need to be at home, not a state, so that with your soul you become a person, and not a holy one, a hundred. remember your

highest price, don’t forget, as you cherish your neighbor, i remember like a sad day, behind the siberian steel, i remember. like the day of the day, the conversation became like this.

don’t forget, like the evil frosts, the klyamka fingers are heeled, balyucha, and the devil is on your steel, the fuck is fresh. taga bread pakulshy.

you need to be happy at home, you need to be happy at home. not a state, if you become a noble soul, and not a holy saint. need to be at home some of the time.

nadezhda, you are a waste of money, you know about me, but others don’t care about the flow of the aso river. oka, you and i will sail far today, you are my hope, you are my joy, about

you know me, but others don’t, you may yes... nadezhda, you are my joy, you know about me, but others don’t, the sky is blue, the sun is golden.

nezhda, you may adrada, you know me, but others don’t. they arranged their life in the village in such a way that any city dweller could envy.

you have belovezhskaya pushcha right here in your yard, how far is it, well, just meters away, so? she's probably in front of the house. today we will walk through real swamps, like a swamp. near the house, which again, twenty meters away, an uninitiated person, seeing this building, will say, i don’t know what it is, a castle, a manor, an estate, but in fact this is a mill, this is a mill, leading from steel.

partners in life, emotions, feelings, dancing - partners in sports, and i hope we will be wonderful, but i think you have a love triangle there, i want to know what happened to my father. yes, and not alone, inga, i

love you very much, and i ask you to become my wife, i love someone else, i myself have been living with this feeling since the day you fell on the ice through my fault, watch the series again there will be a day on the tv channel belarus 24. in the wet garden, autumn forgot, a torn scarf, yellow leaves, it would be better if we met, forget it. for the sake of spring, we are punished for reward,

that words of love were spoken before, that we trusted ourselves to completely different people, half an hour before spring, that completely different people in the world of spring, half an hour before spring, because... with me, white willows, i hear, the ringing of silence, everything would have been easier, probably in half an hour and spring, we are punished for being late, that words of love were spoken before, that we trusted completely...to others in half an hour and spring, that

we trusted completely others in half an hour and spring, if in fate was known in advance that we would meet on a rainy day, i would have come. you have a date half an hour before spring, and we are punished, that words of love were spoken before, that you trusted completely others in half an hour before spring, that you trusted completely different people in half an hour before...

we trusted others in half an hour and spring, which is completely different we were checked in half an hour.

do not offend your loved ones with reproaches, be afraid of

appearing cruel to your loved ones. vulnerable, very vulnerable, our beloved, very vulnerable, very vulnerable, our beloved, for the sake of high love we obliged. remember that our loved ones are connected to us in life, by an invisible thread, by an invisible thread, by an invisible thread, by an invisible thread, our

loves. our loved ones, kept in our hearts, heart , kept in our hearts, our loved

ones, kept in our hearts, kept in our hearts, our loved ones, kept in our hearts, kept in our hearts, our loved ones,

good evening, dear, where to? where are you going, where are you going, where are you going to tell me a good day? i feel the river lyavaty, the sound of a hut from lemyana, i live

for the rachenki lyavaty, the sound of the little hut, i pasta the horse for the wares, pass and dzyauchyna. for the people, hellish daughter, hellish, you don’t know yourself, i won’t open the door for you all night, but you will start the whole night, i won’t start the door for you all night, oh, i won’t, i will anka, i won't. i’m going to eat for a month, oh, i won’t, zevanka, i won’t, like uzydze months, i’m dying, like uzychy,

month and dawn, wash and wash, zevanka, hello, i’m shepherding horses. na taku, chakai, chakai, zevanka, daraku, you will give me roseum i forgot that i would drink a gift for you, and even tied a rose for me, that i would drink a gift for you, and la-la-la, all together?

tell me the truth!

our life is on the road, you have enough strength to go, if you remember about your friends, morning dawn. you loved ones, we can’t live a day without this, we’ll open the windows, hide the pain in our chests, shout to the wind, come into our room, so that you can have time with your soul, remember, help, those who warmed this world with warmth, a new day will come, and the lighthouses are burning,

from the past they will light the way, and we will carry this pure light into tomorrow, never to return losses, but... you are still yours, the years have flown by quickly as if in a moment, you have traveled a lot in life on the road, but don’t forget, just look around, it’s warm, where... dear home, our life is on the way, enough strength to go, heart the main thing

is to preserve, the morning dawn, the beloved class into the world, we must live and love this life, a new day will come, and beacons burn from the past. they will light the way, where is this pure light, we will carry it tomorrow, we will not return the losses, but we will sing, we will not return the losses, but we will sing,

i... i am afraid of enemies, i am not afraid, i am of youth i bow to my own and my childhood, my blood is knocking, i can do anything in life, and i live and believe in love, and i live and believe in love.

a white stork flies over the whitish woodland. the belarusian theme in the song of the heather in the song of the willows, the whole earth accepted the care and caress of the flame, blazed over the earth, the sky looked like

beaver. my youth, belarus, songs of partisans, soshme na duma, writing partisan, hello i am for. my youth, belarus, our memory goes, along the forest partisan path, they could not be overgrown, these paths in

the people's fate. from those long ago days, in each heart lives to this day, in each of our families, maalya dzetsi khatyn, the youth of may belarus, is with us. songs of partisans, pine trees, songs of partisans, and my dawn, my youth, belarus. white ice flies over woodland, over

quiet stubble, somewhere in the crowd of swamps. the cooling thunder is buried, the white ice flies, everything flies over the native fields, the land of our love, overshadowing with large wings, the youth of may. belarus, songs of the partisans, songs of the sosma, songs

of the baktes, the scarlet king, youth of may, belarus. your voladasc, belarus, songs partisans, sosleda dumman, songs of partisans, ale yar. my love, belarus!

hello on the tv channels belarus 1, belarus 24 and the weekly analytical program editors club, as always we

discuss the most important, loudest topics of the outgoing week and i introduce the guests who are present in our studio today, dmitry aleksandrovich zhuk, editor-in-chief of the belarus today publishing house, deputy parliament of the council of the republic. olga shpilevskaya, director of the representative office of mtrk world of belarus, chairman of the belarusian union women, vadim borovik, political scientist and deputy of the minsk city council of deputies, vadim gigin, deputy of the house of representatives, head of the national knowledge society library, and vladimir borisovich pertsov, deputy head of the presidential administration of the republic of belarus, with great joy we say, we congratulate vladimirevich, thank you. in general, it’s nice to watch the growth of the members of the editors’ club, vadim franzovich became a deputy, vadim became a deputy, dmitry aleksandrovich became a senator, i’m also a little old.”