I suffered with You, Belarus, my beloved,
When a police baton *****
You at the police station,
In full drill.

I was there when they fired at You,
When they killed the helpless
On the street without mercy,
In envy, in anger.

I was when they beat with a baton,
When they hit the eyes with a baton
In the police torture
Or in the yard by the wall.

I was when they beat uncontrollably,
When the lying, despite wanting to
Prove his innocence,
Got the fifth stick in the bone.

I was when they took off the woman’s
******* and were pushing a baton there,
And in the man’s ****
It was being inserted - until the whine.

I was when they beat one in the forest,
The spirit still carries me there,
I saw hundreds lying in the alps,
I saw the dead in the halls.

Hospitals ...

It was the baton of Łuka,
Which *****,
Which killed,
Which beat,
Which knocked out teeth,
Which bruised,
It was the baton of Łuka.

The bullets were Łuka’s,
The hands were Łuka’s,
I give the large double doors back to Łuka:
Let you be rotten in a bad way.

The baton was Łuka’s.
It was the baton of Łuka.
The baton was Łuka’s.
It was the baton of Łuka.

You wronged a simple man,
And the walls will collapse anyway,
It's not balderdash,
Oh, you ignoramuses,
Oh, you ... stupid.

Oh you the bows! ...
Oh, you, Łuka (the Bow)!

There was a girl
who was carrying flowers on one hot August afternoon,
And whose face you see on the screen today.

You say it is humane to make a person stand
with their hands up against a concrete wall
for nine hours in November cold

You say it is humane to put thirty people
in a cell built for four and make them share
one loaf of bread on the third day of their arrest

You say it is humane to make a person sing
the national anthem, and beat them with
batons if they don't know the second verse

You say it is humane to build
concentration camps for political prisoners
Because you’re only protecting your country.

It's not even romantic
But I'm going to write a poem of every boy I met.Not romantic,
It's not that I had met a lot of men.

On that morning
you played ukulele,
I sang along with the lyrics
Creep, Blur,anything

The morning light shined through your squinted eyes
I can still see the dust swirling, dancing in front of the sun-bathed face of yours.
Naive,friendly,happily
We were singing to each other
The other two are non-existence.

You are so warm, comfortable to be around with
A Belarusian boy ,aspiring to speak good Chinese.
You paint, you cooked and made desserts
Always at ease at hitchhiking
through Kazakhstan and China

I felt that you secretly want to try to escape from what you had
from Belarus to Czech, then to this mysterious Eastern world, a bit communist.
And then to Taiwan.

This is for you Ilya, a friend for only a day and night.
You're too delicate for me to handle as you have
skin like milk and heart of seven seas
Smile like a 5 year old in a swing.