Ани Лорак - Изгой
текст песни

I'll tell you a sonnet
About how the poet lived,
He wrote his poems
About what hurts about.
Now he will be forgotten
Inniches, pour in ink.
Such a simple plot.

Chorus:
The feather brought no fame ...
The poet did not care
What will be done with his work.
Let it be burned at the fire,
Or will finish the whole process
Some Dantes.
But lepered and blind,
Struck by black slander,
Not necessary for your own country,
Love in the far side
The poet with fate is not simple - an outcast.

Pain of an unheated line
On abandoned sheets
Leads to terrible fear
Officials.
But even black ashes
Unrelated pages
Will tear off a tear from the eyelashes

Chorus:
The feather brought no fame ...
The poet did not care
What will be done with his work.
Let it be burned at the fire,
Or will finish the whole process
Some Dantes.
But lepered and blind,
Struck by black slander,
Not necessary for your own country,
Love in the far side
The poet with fate is not simple - an outcast.