"Farewell"
1. Hello, you, my native village,
We missed you again.
Even if we run away in search of a warm toilet,
We live and we still worship you.
Your song is dedicated to you guys,
Back to Sabantui by painting her husband.
Still praising the city shops,
Your daughters are strangers.
And if you're still alive,
It's raining cats and dogs.
Our meadows, which were once mown by hay
What a wonderful way to screw people over.
Poor Garif, who died this year from drinking,
The trusts have moved.
There is no creature in the streets,
You mean, like, saltines and their ilk, eh?
Village, village, native village,
Village, village, native village.
2. If the wait is still in line,
"Stop it now," they say, "from this year."
To the gate of the school where we studied
"Locked," it was written.
To the village garbage that is like a mountain
Who threw the broken harp?
Our long-lost Jamil,
Take my village.
Of the long-deceased neighbor sisters
The house is cheap for other people.
The cleanest, cleanest house of its time
Adjusters to sell alcohol.
To the fields of the new owner,
When the Afghans dry up and don’t get alone.
Our holy spring,
When water does not reach them.
Village, village, native village,
Village, village, native village.
3. The minaret of the ascending mosque,
Today, the party committee believes that Solomon.
The rest of the sick village is shrinking,
Only the cemetery grew bigger.
I say goodbye and admit my guilt,
My ancestors are in this cemetery.
"You'll never come back," he said.
They are waiting for us.
Village, village, native village,
Village, village, native village.
