Текст песни Потаня - Собиратель ветра

Being a born tramp and singer
Will is sweetest to me than anything
I know only one fishing
On the roads I collect the wind

No peace forever hurry
To be in time in those lands and in these
But a rich harvest
On the roads I collect the wind

My catch is rich but the trouble is
Does not bring voiced coins
Rarely fed up but always happy
On the roads I collect the wind

Friends will not be everywhere
And sometimes a hug before dawn
But goodbye I can’t procrastinate
On the roads I collect the wind

How many were not counted
Different countries of the worlds or centuries
There is always work for me
On the roads I collect the wind