Текст песни Г.Тимановский - Уставший крик.

That's my shout tired
 All the shouting in the void of the miraculous.
 I got lost here, and maybe gone,
 Poems filled my place here.
 Here I choke on his own words,
 The fingers are sore from the strings.
 But there is no urine does not sing, that's lucky,
 So sing, though perhaps not to the court.

 Ex: There is no freedom if the hurt inside,
     No rest, if the flame is burning.
     The cry of a crow does not know the nightingale,
     You hear the prayer? It's me.

 You give me a minute, say nothing about life,
 Adopt my heart for a moment.
 What I dream, what I want,
 to shout, but my tired cry.
 You guitar take, merge with me,
 Let's sing together.
 Hard one in this earthly life,
 So come on let us lodge together.