Such is, my love, the destiny of thieves —
It’s just a usual affair on our pathway
To part from freedom for long trying years,
But nothing can move those who own no master.
To part from freedom for long trying years,
But nothing can move those who own no master.

Perhaps someone prepares my o’erthrow,
The sky is often covered with black clouds...
But no bird-catcher aims to catch a crow,
The things are only nightingales, our brothers.
But no bird-catcher aims to catch a crow,
The things are only nightingales, our brothers.