Dedicated to those who sometimes desperately stand over the abyss. Live, my dear people!
When it hurts and does not sleep,
And in the cry I remember my mother,
I understand that it's not a bird
And I was born not to fly.
When I rise on the edge of the cliff,
And my gaze is fixed in the abyss,
I clench my fist at the fist.
Live. Do not fly, I'm allotted.
Then I turn to the sky with a word,
To the Father is what the wings are giving out.
Not Satan in this life I'm needed,
Do not fall, and take off will come.
A crazy thought will subside a little,
Not an angel to wag his wings,
I kneel before God
For the pain, for this God's grace.