Oh, where do I go, O God, to whom should I tell my sorrow that the sorrow of my tongue is burning, why should I bring it to my lips that the fire inside me is burning to my bones, it is I who has lost gambling and made the breeze
of the nest,
where should I go, O God, to whom should I tell my sorrow that the sorrow of my tongue has burned, why should I bring it to my lips that the fire inside me has burned my bones, it is I who has made the lost gambler the breeze of the nest,
and I am mad and crying, I am drunk, the companion of my nights, sigh at the door. The taverns are looped forever My hand of longing Oh my mad drunken cry The companion of my nights is a sigh on the door of the taverns Forever My hand of begging Oh this is me who has made the lost gambler a breeze Oh
where should I go, God, to whom should I tell my sorrow that the sorrow of my tongue is burning, why should I bring it to my lips that the fire inside me burns to my bones , it is I who has made the lost gambler
