Mirek Breguła - Syn wyklęty

He was young,
hungry for the wonders of the world,
And he wore his heart on his sleeve.
He was bright,
He played tricks on the trolls,
He defended the helpless.

Ref: The evil wind
Stole a scrap of his soul at last,
It threw him down with the rain,
Biting from all sides.
He was afraid,
And the world celebrated the end of the drought,
joy everywhere
- And he?

He was sad
He wept for the first time,
And moved on, far ahead.
Hundreds of miles
He searched for his light,
And disappeared. Where? - I don't know.

Ref: The evil wind
finally stole a scrap of his soul,
It threw him down with the rain,
Biting from all sides.
He was afraid,
And the world celebrated the end of the drought,
joy everywhere
- And He?

Bridge:
Between him and the sky,
the wind blew incessantly,
helplessness wrapped in anger awoke the dirty other Self.
the reins of sins let go,
and venom crept into his heart,
and no one stood in his way,
and everyone had to be afraid.
And the wind kissed the sky and blew great trumpets,
That at last it had turned someone
so good into a monster with his power.
And the monster exterminated the trolls,
He beheaded the helpless,
And the wind incited: it must hurt,
Whats up man, where is the blood ?!
There are no miracles in the world,
It's already allowed to spit and curse,
too good a man is unbearable,
You must trample him as soon as possible!
So he raged along with the wind,
until finally he fell without strength,
and dreamed of dancing with the light,
From the time when he was an angel.
He woke up tired,
And begged fate for a miracle,
to all four corners of the world
He chased away the wind, and the coldness of his heart.

And he returned - the son of the cursed,
neither good nor bad,
stained with blood,
a would-be saint,
quarreled with fate
went down to the dogs.