Перевод фрагмента поэмы А. Кулешова с белорусского

Dear Minsk I abandoned –
By fires and bombs away driven.
Are you telling my city’s demolished,
That it’s no more living?

And I neither believe glows at night,
Nor clouds of ashes,
Cause if yes, why when closing my eyes,
I see, not imagine.

Minsk’s alive, not destroyed and deceased,
Where tramways still clank on the streets,
No dead bodies, and tears not falling from kids?

And that trails now guide me, and trees,
Oh my live, I don’t want to believe,
That I’m walking alone bare feet,
Oh my life, I deny to believe,

I deny to believe to my feet , to all roads
I won’t believe,
To the roads that lead me through fields and ravines,
Endless roads, sun’s shining. I don’t believe.

I’m staring at planes and I see,
Once again I’ve no strength to believe,
That I see only death from vessels,
Machineguns that are killing my kids.

And how could one believe?
When one’s heart sobs and sobs,
That a birch, just a birch is protecting from shots,
No more strength to believe and all the credits are lots…

(this is the translation (from Belorussian) of the extract of a poem of A. Kyulyashow 'The brigade flag')