generous, picturesque and monumental, sporty and team-oriented. we tell you not only about significant events, we introduce you to active, energetic, inspiring people who live in belarus and do everything for its development. belarus can be different, to understand and feel it, you need to see it with your own eyes. hello, dear tv viewers, belarus 24 tv channel is on the air, everyone watch us. because we are making belarus

closer. the day of belarusian writing has long been designated for the first time. uppershynyu i was sanctified back in 1994 in polack. gorad, this year marks the traditional day of belarusian literature. the large-scale holy heat of the magilio land, the town of byalynich. 28th day of belarusian literature in kapel. good-bye, the day

of belarusian writing is fading. we ask for holy spirituality, national culture and knowledge of books. let's fight in the garden.

an hour of light. the relish of the native language is here as if never before. white russia is mine.

white rus' you are mine. there would be white faces, white scythes would jingle, in a cloud of white above the arcs, the eternal parade, white white rebols passed and white, white shoulders for growth, white , white roses, pure light cross , you are my white rust, you are my white rust, you are my pure, you are my dear, you are my white rust, making

rust, you are mine, making doug, you are mine! like a native word, you are dear and dear to me, you are my sweetheart, palannila. i understood the bad ones, so sharp, so close, mother ssyazhinka, the little kalyska, i would smell the song of the father, and think of a new song of the father, and

i would become so bright, so pure, so clear. krynichka pramenchyk and dormouse is red, words dear, dear words, you are developing, you are people's, hell is my earth, you are hell-bent, kill the pausul to the ringing voices. the words are dear, the words are dear, once upon a time, you are the people, and on earth, you are the hell of the voices, the bells of the voices will fall by the hands.

i want the veins, the eternal humming, and the goodness, the song satkala yamala, tsudouna, dear native word, sweep aside the people, dear words, dear words, you are glad to may, you are the people, and my lands, you are the adkolasa, thickly pausyutsya loud voices, if there are

lots of people, may belarusians, may there be snow, if there is bread and for this reason, i have saved my own, ni pena, ni moyda , dear words, dear words, you are my dear, you are people’s, from my land, you are the devil, thick pausul to sonorous voices. dear words, dear words, you are happy, you are people’s, hell of the earth, you are the hell of voices, thick pausul with such

voices, dzyakuy! how many things do you need to pay attention to in order to attack your own adjudication? this is how life is built, stupid knowledge, your

skin is looking for you, and on the eighth of may, it will be, yes, yes, smargon, your dear, in the distance, at your feet, right krycha clowns, you. i'm afraid, hellish and biarosa, we sing praises, braids are shaken, the song flies, the jump from the bell, any of my land , my side, only here can one so sustrets, shchirastsya, only here can one understand how

to satisfy the soul, here are the dawns and we are closer, yes, we are going to tie everything together, our skin is shukaiku, and the eighth of may is here, and yes, the smargon of the sir is in the distance in the distance, it is very true that the harm is coming to you, i add to you the pakrygu of the hell of kamyantsa, and yes, the wild roses of praise fell asleep. braids song lyatsitsy tylets with calls my land is my country.

and yes, the elder and yes smargon of the heart of your meat in the distances, at berazeno, just when you are closing, you add yago pokrykha, adkayan and yes bearoz, praise pale, intertwined with braids, the song of the dance of the gleets. side, any of my edges, my side, any of my edges, my little side,

there, the vigils, the bright lights and maukleva look at the earth, you smell, euphrasinya of the daylight.

may i sing a song of salvation, undimmed by the whitening footsteps, your pilgrimage to the earth, you prayed for us before the gentlemen, and froze on... the papras, smell me, dawn, just before... forever and ever asvetsitsa with the heel of your hand, you remember the sunny ones, caressing the azars. your

dear monasteries will fill your flesh with prayerful words, my dear soul knows, you are in heaven. she went after the aneles, leaving us the power of the roof, which did not fade away white after the house, your pilgrimage walked on the earth, they prayed for us,

before the lord. there, ask for prayer for belarus, for the nasvetnitsa and for belarus. ask, you understand, i'm the most beautiful lady of

the world. and prayed for us before the lord, for peace on earth, ask, belarus is dynamically developing interregional interaction with russian regions, we are today on the list of key partners of the pskov region, issues of transport communication are being resolved, import substitution is being worked out. experts call the current time the battle for

africa; the continent is gradually clearing itself of the colonialists of the past and is ready for cooperation. africa is objective. our field of possibilities can and want to cooperate with us. the nato countries almost immediately decided to conduct exercises in the baltic and black seas. during the maneuvers , landing operations and strikes from sea to land. we invite the polish military to our training. refusal, in return a helicopter provocation. we do it without visas, we get closed borders. someone else has the impression that we are pushing it. main. topics on the main broadcast. watch on the belarus 24 tv channel. their life in polish villages and agricultural towns, contrary to all stereotypes, is bright and eventful. in many ways, our future life depends on the conditions in which you were born, what surrounded you, what kind of nature, what kind of people were next to you.

our life in the village is more measured, we we’re not in a hurry, we seem to work a lot, but we’re not going anywhere, i call them big cats , they’re tame, they’re kind, well, somehow i’m happy with all this, i love it, hard work, resourcefulness, passion, the main quality of these people, i have already had practice for more than 30 years with these cucumbers, we use drip irrigation , it is much more efficient and convenient in every village or city, there is a place that people are proud of, the pearl of our church is the tomb chapel... i have almost everything , i have food, i have a family, children, well, everything i practically dreamed of everything is there, i’m happy, watch beshuki on the belarus 24 tv channel

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and the feathered hands are dancing, and the feathered hands are dancing, you're may, you're may ... the featherling, you're may, you're may tummy, the feathers are dancing, because the feathered hand

of the crane is standing, you're may, you may you be a little bitch, you may be, you may be mine, to me. little children, you are mine, you are mine, quail.

from their relatives. hell native hut near the master's yard the lands of beauty, the yana of the homeless, the weaving of patched parcels, the darker edge of the itchy boron, which are forgotten. lake, christmastide, radzina, vasilka, and the rest of us, for good measure.

why have i forgotten dreams of your wide fabric, adjusting the persian skits, the darker edge of the soup boron, the forgotten hand, the clasp... cornflower , the very persian gasor, the stolen flower,

tilka, the darker edge, the subjat boron a. and the forgotten hand, the holy day of the radzima vasilka, the darker edge, the jagged boron, and the forgotten hand,

the land of pyarsitsk.

small small swim winch white white where are you there was a winch, a wink, a wink, a wink, a wink. i floated far away, the axis is far away, to form an unfeeling nok, not to shake with you, oh, not to dance, not to dance, i am a small little little serena, in me there is a musenka, wide-shiraya, where have you been, little musenka, pale, what a bashila,

that i was blowing, i'm burning the mountains of strength, strength, my wings are on fire, wings, don't swear with you, oh, don't dance, don't dance, i walked after the walk, we'll write with you, oh, yes, dance, yes, dance,

good evening, shanounya, bless you, dear villager, there is an interim, and the sky shakes hands

we sing, we sing, we sing a song. ours, let's remember our fathers, our gray hair, the unsparing weight in our souls , gay, let's get together once, but in our family at the table, and we won't be confused, we know, we'll embrace and sing a song, we'll burn together, eating at the table and us there will be no money for us, let’s unite and set a song, the path of the village crosses

, in the sky we shake our hands , shake hands in the sky, in the wild places we will stop, we will lie down, we will stop at the yuletide feast, let’s live a more beautiful life, be kind to us, let’s saber once again, hello sam'yoyu behind the steel. and we won’t be confused, we know whether we’ll embrace the song, let ’s gather together, as one family at the table, and we

won’t know whether we’ll open up or sing a song. daroshka settled between her fingers, and in the sky her hands were singing, touching the burnt bushes, pouring. come on, let’s remember that loaf of bread, the hand of the mother at the mass, what kind of mischief there is bread from the will, the little snake is crying about us, let’s get into one hell of a seat at the table, and we won’t know the sum, let’s get down and sing a song, let’s burn at once,

sit at the table and we won’t be sad, he knows, from time to time they took the song beyond the field, the lands of my song, living sides, the roof of the living, the voice is clear and sonorous, my song, the lands of my memory, like good times of sleep, in

the hell of a brother, behind to my song, i sing to the serfs, to the lands of my song, i take away my soul, to the lands of my song, take them as a keepsake, to the lands of my song, sing. once with us , in your simple songs, without an active word, there is an unknown and new day on my skin, and joy, and growing dawns, and white wings, cloudy expanses, all my songs, i sing with my heart,

in memory of the land of my song, sing with us, in your songs, like the black orec of the forest, the felt boots. the souls of the belarusian souls were given to the lands of my song, i burn with my heart, into the lands of my song, they rob the soul, the lands of my song, take them.

you sang the lands of my song with us as a souvenir, the lands of my song, take them as a souvenir, the lands of my song, let us sing together with us, into the lands of my song, kali go out to the field, for the dying days, kali sertsam. you feel the smile of the world, you understand

adnoychy, radzymy prastor, for what it is, you need to do it, without pavaga yes udzyachnasti, even if you are a man, without pavaga and udzyachnasti, tears, a hole in the world, you need to dig up your skin, for your life, for life and for the light of the sun. for everything and everyone , for everything and everyone, if you forget your dear lady, you become a bastard, if you don’t realize that

you can’t live without punishment, you are ruining. yourself, you are destroying your wings, without pavaga new life, even though you are a man, without pava and udzjachnasti, tears are unraveled, you need to speak to the skin, which is sharp for your age, for life and for the sun, for the light, bra olika gangerlikanger.

without pavaga da udzyachnasti, no matter how you are, without pavaga da udzyachnasti, without pavaga da udzyachnasti, tears da developed, you need to swear by the skin, how much for your age, for life and for the sun-light, for the future and kahanna, without pavagi dy udziachnastsi, hiba you are a man

, without pavaga ўdzyachnastі, tears y unraveled, the need to djakavat skin, kagostreў for your age, for life and for the sun, for the light, for the sabers and kahanne, for all blood and kahanne, your dear god, how i forgot you i do n't care strength, we are often tired of the journey, we are miserable in the spring of may, and in the future i will be buried in my thoughts, and

there's a soul there. i’m soiling, and there with my soul, i’m soiling, like a tsyaper, before me, a flock of hutosh, that jumper. the hidden high bed, and the steaming tree, the pine tree above the water, like

a child, the hour of pooping, in the late evening, partings, i love you, my dear perek, little devil! there are silver waters on it, then you are a friendly enchantment, like the weight of the water, my good

is thin, as you are dear to me, forget about you, i don’t suffer from strength, forget about you, i don’t suffer from strength. forget myself, i don’t have the strength, thank you, thank you very much, good evening, dear friends, my dear fellow countrymen, how are you i am happy to stand and sing folk language for you today, thank you, happy holiday. well, now it will be very exciting for me, i think you will sing along to me a song called

spadshchyna, hell be good and all good, we have found spadshchyna, a memory of ours and strangers, and we caress the match. with this drink, i dream of skipping dreams, thawed patches, and the rustling of the forest, and the oak trees in the field are burned.

oh, i’ll be sure to remember, i’ll stick to the selklet, and that old amshaly, you, who are a hatch to the labes, while there, ape, i’m singing fairy tales, dreams. the shady thawed patches and the forest are gone, the oak trees are scorched. this is a boring lamb, damn it is bad, it’s a waste, and

the lids are boiled for gramads, for the graveyards, alive, from its breath, we are born. i wrap my clothes in every way with the old- fashioned way.

i'm going to sleep, i'm going to bed, i'm going to sleep. then staronkay dear, jakuy, dear friends, well, at such moments you understand that you madly love life, i want to

be with you, together in this square, who is watching us. i want to sing a song called i love you, life, i love you life, which in itself is not new, i love you life, i love you, again again , now the lights are lit, i’m walking home from work, tired, i love you life, and i want you to become better, i’m not young enough, the breadth of the earth and level.

inina morskaya, unknown to me for a long time, unselfish friendship of men, call every day, i’m so happy that i have no peace, i have love, i have life, you know what it is, what is my happiness, that i have no peace, i have love me, life you know what it is, how i sing, nightingales, at dawn and peaks

on love, this is a miracle, great children, we will go through with them again, childhood, youth, train stations, piers, there will be grandchildren, then we will repeat everything again. at first, oh, how the years fly, we are sad, sitting, noticing, life, you remember the salt, who died protecting you, so i fly and

do it, in the difficult sounds of vi... she is not godlike, i love you life, i hope that this is mutual . taklek and perform the major sluts of the spring anthem, i love you life, i hope it’s mutual, thank you.

our memory is the basis of our glory, a bright trace, these are all living words, eternal words, like light. behind the steel. in the past, in the sacred words, in the cherished words of this day, belarusian is with us here, and the dear words are unchangeable, dancing in the dormouse clouds.

and the words dear nanny, the dance of the sleepy ones, the unspent letters, the unforgotten names called for us, that the people of kali have chosen the hour, and the decline floats, and the desire for new days, i am today and the songs that the sir breathes to us , belarusian songwriting. speak to us here like the native words of the sunny clouds and the native words

of the sunny clouds. the day of the belarusian literature, the talker with us here is vyatki, and the native words are uneasy, the dance on the dormouse, nature, and over , the belarusian literature, the day for us, the day for you, the day of the belarusian literature, the yule day for.

the happy earth is in the hands of our gentle hands, our richest treasure. whenever i am happy , i would like to create and develop

thrifty traditions, in the name of a happy and happy future, where the lifestyle of the skin and the law are important. and life with navakol in hellishness and kahanna eight sapraudnae shchastse. there are meetings here filled with heartfelt moments and family spectacles. all hell broke loose. belarus 24 is what we are absolutely disgusted with.