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 can’t go higher, lower - am not allowed,
The sun I’m not allowed, not allowed the moon.

Cannot go out, for I am sought-and-hidden,
Here’s the only walking - from the door to the wall, -
The left turn’s not allowed; the right one is forbidden,
A piece of sky’s allowed, dreams - and that is all.

The dreams about freedom, being friendly treated,
The guitar’s 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?