I Pity The Poor Immigrant

Bob Dylan

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Original	Versione ceca di Jan Řepka
I PITY THE POOR IMMIGRANT	IMIGRANT

I pity the poor immigrant	Jsem jenom chudej imigrant
Who wishes he would've stayed home	se ví - raději doma bych spal
Who uses all his power to do evil	svou duší ďáblu otročím
But in the end is always left so alone	a s tím vědomím usínám sám
That man whom with his fingers cheats	mý prsty samej švindl
And who lies with ev'ry breath	bezelstnost jsem dávno škrt
Who passionately hates his life	vlastní život nesnáším
And likewise fears his death.	ale stejně tak děsí mě smrt

I pity the poor immigrant	Jsem jenom chudej imigrant
Whose strength is spent in vain	pro místní obtížná veš
Whose heaven is like ironsides	mé nebe je horké ale mlčí
Whose tears are like rain	mé slzy jsou jak déšť
Who eats but is not satisfied	jím ale nikdy ne dosyta
Who hears but does not see	slyším ale nevidím
Who falls in love with wealth itself	co vede mě to jsou peníze
And turns his back on me.	a tak se odvracím od lidí

I pity the poor immigrant	Jsem jenom chudej imigrant
Who tramples through the mud	to je můj celej zpěv
Who fills his mouth with laughing	bahnem dál se propadám
And who builds his town with blood	a v ulicích nechávám krev
Whose visions in the final end	mý sny se dřív než začnou
Must shatter like the glass	tříští jako sklo
I pity the poor immigrant	jsem jenom chudej imigrant
When his gladness comes to pass.	můj úděl nemá dno

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