Proper and sincere, the bride will sob me out,
Surely, the fellows will return my debts.
All the songs - by others will be sang, no doubt,
Probably the foes will drink to my health.
Any book of interest I am left without,
My guitar a string needs, it's no more a boon,
I canít go higher, lower - am not allowed,
The sun Iím not allowed, not allowed the moon.
Cannot go out, for I am sought-and-hidden,
Hereís the only walking - from the door to the wall, -
The left turnís not allowed; the right one is forbidden,
A piece of skyís allowed, dreams - and that is all.
The dreams about freedom, being friendly treated,
The guitarís returning by my kin and kith,
Whom will I be met by, how will I be greeted,
And what kind of singing will I be welcomed with?