Dwa plus jeden - Teatr na drodze

Somewhere over there at a crossroads,
Where even the wind loses its way,
That's where a beggar and an actor
Once made a strange pact.

The one who acts out
A play on a road better,
Takes the other's attire
And hits the road ahead.

Away, over there, wherever fate may lead him.

Over the road the high wind blew,
The kind we no longer have these days.
Over the road the high wind blew,
The kind we no longer have these days.

Oh lord!, Oh prince of Muses! -
The old man whined -
Do you know what hunger is,
When a bite of bread is treasure?!

He kept on whining and wailing
As if he'd had enough of life
When the actor, moved by the act,
Gave him his own pouch!

A full pouch, inside which the coins were tinkling.

Over the road the high wind blew,
The kind we no longer have these days.
Over the road the high wind blew,
The kind we no longer have these days.

Hey, look! - the actor said,
Hiding behind the mask -
I'm gonna act out my own death -
How splendidly he acted!

When he finished the biggest part,
He fell onto sand out of beath.
And the beggar took his
Ceremonial attire!

And the bunch of masks. His laughter was carried by the wind.

Over the road the high wind kept blowing,
The kind we no longer have these days.
Over the road the high wind kept blowing,
The kind we no longer have these days.
Over the road the high wind kept blowing,
The kind we no longer have these days.
Over the road the high wind kept blowing,
The kind we no longer have these days.