Текст песни Руставели - минута

What to do if there is nothing to strive for?
Piston pressure to pump hopes that are not there?
To convince myself that I could be mistaken in the reality of loneliness for twenty-three years?
Spoiled heart burned with gasoline sprinkle?
So that the visibility of feelings to someone burned his eyes ???
I can’t jump from pseudo joy when my soul is like gray ash!
When the past hardened in pain
When the present is around, how could it not be worse in a cube,
And the future kills hopes for the best, becoming the present every minute ...