You are Vates, hostile whirlwinds,Over my sore head!Not getite the dark forces You so angry working people!.Above the gray plain of morewater clouds gather tries,But the singer, with the element arguing,All will comfort and healthier!.This song, like a moan,I have no rhyme or reason put:I Watched the abyss bezdonnoe tops, sluchalos lived..But which side I no I will Not ostanus I side:Help the oppressed people,He will cry more about me!