Текст песни ОЛЕГ МИТЯЕВ - Как трудно быть художником

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How hard to be an artist among the asphalt gray,
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Then black from the rain, then shock and white,
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Among houses, government words, and unfamiliar counterparts,
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And snow threads of wires, and wet painted eyelashes.

And every day in the trolley, in delusion of unrest,
I solve rebuses on frozen glasses.
On the glasses and in memory of the truth and from someone's lies,
And on the spiritual jam, and on the canvas with the name "Life".

How hard to be an artist, do not sleep in bad weather behind the wall,
And sailing under the whisper of the rain over the black terrible depth,
Remember how the thunderstorm is noisy, and even droplets to survive -
And it is impossible to close your eyes and suddenly the artist is not to be.