Ритм блюз

Well, what’s it to you
Why I’m sober sometimes, and drunk too?
Some may not like it, that’s alright!
I won’t whine, I won’t give up the fight.
No home, my pockets empty, too,
But I drift like a boat on the waves, it’s true,
I pray to the winds as they blow,
I play my rhythm, my blues, let it flow!

Well, what’s it to you
Why my shelter’s a bar or two?
It’s just how I like to live,
In the dark, I like to give,
A place where the lamps dimly shine,
No random friends, no love, it’s fine,
No passions or family ties,
I’m free with my blues in the skies!

Well, what’s it to you
Why I split my life in two?
A black crow and a white dove,
Build their nests on my shoulders, above.
The black crow lives in the night,
The white dove calls me to flight,
It takes my sorrow and my pain,
And I play my blues again.

Well, what’s it to you
Why I can’t sleep through the night too?
Who I talk to in my half-dreams,
With invisible angels, it seems?
I dive into the night’s deceit,
Forget my pockets are empty, incomplete,
I turn my minus into plus,
And once more my blues play, no fuss.
And once more my blues...play.

Текст Елены Беловой в переводе.
https://www.neizvestniy-geniy.ru/users/65377.html