I Pity The Poor Immigrant

Bob Dylan
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OriginalVersione svedese di Mikael Wiehe da Dom Ensligas Alle (1982)
I pity the poor immigrant
Who wishes he would've stayed home
Who uses all his power to do evil
But in the end is always left so alone
That man whom with his fingers cheats
And who lies with ev'ry breath
Who passionately hates his life
And likewise fears his death.
ag ömkar emigranterna
som önskar att dom aldrig gett sej av
som offra’ allt dom trodde på
och ändå inte fick nånting tillbaks
som drar sej fram med list och svek
och lurendrejeri
som bara fruktar döden mer
än dom hatar sina
I pity the poor immigrant
Whose strength is spent in vain
Whose heaven is like ironsides
Whose tears are like rain
Who eats but is not satisfied
Who hears but does not see
Who falls in love with wealth itself
And turns his back on me.
Jag ömkar emigranterna
vars liv har bli’tt en lögn
vars himmel blev ett helvete
och som gråter sej till sömns
vars öron inte hör nånting
vars ögon inget ser
som fåfängt jagar makt och guld
och bara vill ha
I pity the poor immigrant
Who tramples through the mud
Who fills his mouth with laughing
And who builds his town with blood
Whose visions in the final end
Must shatter like the glass
I pity the poor immigrant
When his gladness comes to pass.
Jag ömkar emigranterna
som trampar runt i dyn
vars väg till makt och rikedom
är kantad utav lik
vars drömmar och förväntningar
ska krossas liksom glas
Jag ömkar emigranterna
när deras välde går i

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