How hard it is on the heart sometimes When traveling on this treacherous and narrow path But I continue to walk with you, my Savior How you instructed me to walk after You I am a stranger and prisoner in a foreign land Not loved by anyone, and by everyone forgotten My harp is hanging from the willow tree My song is dying, the strings sound not And often it happens, how cries an infant, Like so, I lament and in mourning I pray And to the glorious homeland, which I dearly love With all my heart, soul, and spirit, I look forward In the azure sky, where the sun rises There, to the skies, I direct my glance There, the tired traveler will find his shelter Where everyones desired peace And an unearthly song will sound 'on air,' With that heavenly song I will join my voice But for now, as a wanderer and prisoner on this earth I just sing my sad song...ربى أنا عايز أرنم ليك Лүтф јағышы јағыр Ҝөјлəрдəн После смерти ياللي بديت كتابي ạnạ ạsmy hbẗ Mnoho je práce Do príbytkov až svojich 神啊又是一个早晨 Özde Sözde ruhta bir olan
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