Текст песни Александр Кушнер - Быть нелюбимым,Боже мой..

To be unloved, my goodness
What a blessing to be unhappy
Walking down the street
With a lost and red face.

What flour, grace
Sitting with a bitten lip
About ten times a day to die,
And talk to yourself.

What a sweet longing -
Like a shadow wandering around a room
What happiness is waiting for the call
For months and do not wait.

Who told us the world is at your feet
Lies in tears, agrees on everything?
He is indifferent and cruel,
Although truly beautiful.

What grief make me mine?
Sleep with your head in the night.
When I was not happy with him -
I would stop loving you, do not be afraid.