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Вершы: Joni Mitchell. Travelogue. The Sire of Sorrow.

Let me speak, let me spit out my bitterness
Born of grief and nights without sleep and festering flesh
Do you have eyes, can you see like mankind sees?
Why have you soured and curdled me?

Oh, you tireless watcher, what have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?

Once I was blessed, I was awaited like the rain
Like eyes for the blind, like feet for the lame
Kings heard my words, and they sought out my company
But now the janitors of Shadowland flick their brooms at me

Oh, you tireless watcher, what have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
(Man is the sire of sorrow)

I've lost all taste for life, I'm all complaints
Tell me why do you starve the faithful, why do you crucify the saints?
And you let the wicked prosper, you let their children frisk like deer
And my loves are dead or dying, or they don't come near
(We don't despise your chastening, God is correcting you)

Oh, and look who comes to counsel my deep distress
These pompous physicians, oh, what carelessness
(Oh, all this ranting, all this wind, filling our ears with trash)
Breathtaking ignorance adding insult to injury
They come blaming and shaming and shattering me
(Evil doer, his vain man wishes to seem wise, a man born of asses)

Oh, you tireless watcher, what have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
(We don't despise your chastening)

Already on a bed of sighs and screams
And still you torture me with visions, you give me terrifying dreams
Better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave
I see the diggers waiting, they're leaning on their spades
(Man is the sire of sorrow, sure as the sparks ascend)

Oh, where is hope while you're wondering what went wrong?
Why give me light and then this dark without a dawn?
(Evil is sweet in your mouth hiding under your tongue)
Show your face
(What a long fall from grace)
Help me understand, what is the reason for your heavy hand?
(You stumble in the shadows, you have no name now)

Was it the sins of my youth, what have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
(Oh, your guilt must weigh so greatly)
Everything I dread and everything I fear come true
(Man is the sire of sorrow)
Oh, you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true