Mein Berlin traducción al Inglés

I know not a single tree was standing on this street
Ruins towered into the sky, black and burnt out
And a wind of dust and soot blew over bomb craters
I stumbled in shoes far too big for my feet
Next to my mother, a field cap over my ears
It was winter '46, I was four and I was cold
Over fields of rubble and through forests of scorched steel
And when I close my eyes today, I see everything again

That was my Berlin, my Berlin
Pulling the empty cart over cobblestone
That was my Berlin

There were barriers, there were roadblocks overnight
Then the roar in the air and there were the awaited cargo
Of the Dakotas and the Skymasters, and they turned the tide
And we knew the peoples of the world were looking at this city
There were my school days in the red brick building
Long stockings, shorts, and I could not figure it out
Then the day in June when Potsdamer Platz was on fire
I saw people fighting tanks with their bare hands

That was my Berlin, my Berlin
People fleeing in the hail of bullets from their human brothers
That was my Berlin

That was my Sturm und Drang time, and I saw a bit of the world
And came home and found that half of my world was locked up
Windows were hastily blocked up and on some houses
Between the bricks the curtains still blew out to the west
How often have I lost my longing, how often my mind
How often have I hit my head on this wall
How often did I despair, how often did I stand there speechless
How many times did I see it until I finally didn't see it anymore

That was my Berlin, my Berlin
Watchtowers, crosses, wilted wreaths that run through the city
That was my Berlin

There were the speechless years, then came indifference
Old scars, new wounds, then came the rift
70s demos and the 80s barricades, Kreuzberg burns
Graffiti on the walls: bricks are not an argument
Didn't I feel the tiredness and disappointment myself?
Haven't I already packed my belongings in my mind?
All the talking, all the tactics have robbed me of my nerve
And yet I believed in the future here like a man possessed

That was my Berlin, my Berlin
Resistance and contradictions, reality and utopia
That was my Berlin

I know not a single tree was standing on this street
Ruins towered into the sky, black and burnt out
Now I'm standing here after so many years and I just can't believe
The trees standing here are almost as old as me
All my life I've lived in one half of the city
What do I say now that you've given me the other half?
Now I'm standing here and my eyes can't get enough
Of all these pictures: Freedom, finally freedom over my city

This is my Berlin, my Berlin
Is there a better word for hope, walking upright, never kneeling again?
This is my Berlin

Is there a better word for hope, walking upright, never kneeling again?
It is my Berlin