Духовный стих - Пташка
текст песни

Oh, you are a bird and poor thing -
My dear bird
That you flew early
In these distant lands.

Or a strong wind storm
I brought you to this region
Or family friends separation
I called you here.

But your bitter is a share
The local land is not nice for you.
Not your own will
It’s hard for you to live here.

What you are bitter about so bitter
And you are sad again
What is sad disturbing you
It presses your chest.

Who can suffer from your
Tears of bitter pour the river
That you lowered the wings
You can't eat sweetly in the spring.

Me neither in summer nor spring
Nothing amuses
I will fly to the edge far
And there I will hide from people.

For seas, forests and rivers
I put on the animals there between the animals
Behind dense forests
I will find myself living.

I will scream with tears
I write and drink mine
I'm forgotten by all
Know so God is destined.

And all the closest relatives
Everyone forgot about me.
Everyone forgot, forgot
And they abandoned me.

The only God is hope to me here
Homeless orphan.
He is me food and clothes
My poor poverty.

There are many good people around
But all strangers are all around
All strangers, no native
There is no sympathy in anyone.