on stage, honored artist of the republic of belarus, ruslan alekhno. hit with direct fire. like a machine, scattered to shreds, blue eyes, flooded the field, scarlet dew, pine trees dressed up, in a red sundress, the wind burned with pain, the tran was dying, waiting for me, beloved, waiting for me home, here is my family , here is my home, here is my beloved, here is my home, i will return alive, i will return home, flocks of 47 strikos flew in, pouring blood on the wings of the birches, kites without wings beat at random, the city turned into red-cheeked, a field of riches stirred. eston, russian feast, salty shoulder straps, my beloved is waiting for me, my home is waiting for me, here is my family, here is my home, here is my beloved, here is my home, i will return alive. i will return home, the frost will be covered with ash in the morning. time has come to a standstill, hidden in a hollow, saturated with pain, rusty earth, fallen from the sky, a child’s tear, waiting for me, my beloved, waiting for me to go home, here is my family, here is mine. home, here is my beloved, here is my