Бір тіл білген жеткіліксіз (Bir til bilgen jetkiliksiz) a language is not enough
To express the blue flower, the night that falls on the Aral Sea
The gold and green flag floating on the black water, the waves that carry my soul away
I brandished a revolver in the twilight, jostled by the crowd
No one saw me. I was a spectre. I had already lived a thousand years.
Kazakhstan (literally « land of wanderers ») is the land of birds
They landed on my gun. I shouted in the darkness
Maybe your name maybe a revolutionary song. No matter.

Полицияны шақырыңыз! (Polïcïyanı şaqırıñız!) Call the police!
The rain began to erase my tracks
I left Almaty and its dense smoke
A young Russian man was shaking the icy hand of a contractor
The gas pipeline caught fire, my hands clutched my gun
I cried in the clammy night, in the dead darkness

Сізбен билеуге бола ма? (Sizben bïlewge bola ma?) Will you dance with me?
I mounted a chestnut horse and galloped through the rain
A motorized vehicle slalomed on the beach of Lake Jesybay
The clear water reflected your face, I fired three shots on the surface of the lake
The presidential palace along the Ichim river in Astana
Did not hear me. Light fountains were installed in front of the Concert Hall
A singer in a white sequined dress sings a hymn to the night

Қазақша сөйлейсіз бе? (Qazaqşa söylejsiz be?) Do you speak Kazakh?
I walk in the second coldest city in the world
I pronounce your name in a language I don’t know
Someone spilled his coffee on the worn carpet of the mosque
The observation tower of Bayterek is a playground for birds
The samruk (sacred bird) laid a golden egg (symbol of the sun)
Children hold hands under the deep snow

Мен сені сүйемін! (Men seni süyemin!) I love you!
And I walk like a ghost between the apple orchards
The Tian Shan mountain range is witness to my pain
The Almaty TV tower is lost in the smog
The Issyk-Kul reveals its turquoise waters under a steel sun
The eternal flame burns for the soldiers of the Second World War
In the Panfilov Park near the red-brick music museum

Сізбен билеуге бола ма? (Sizben bïlewge bola ma?) Will you dance with me?
The night falls on Almaty, the skyline is a thick flame that waves
The skyscrapers are the wicks that I light up with my black eyes
Өрт! (Ört!) fire! Snow falls on the Medeo ice rink,
We hear the sound of a train, the roar of the wind,
The gates of Kazakhstan close on my poetry