Добрый день! Не ради корысти и не в силу всевыпирающего тщеславия попробовал перевести (язык не поворачивается назвать "текстом") некоторые из ... стихотворных оригиналов. То, что получилось, т.е. как, в итоге, содержание облеклось в соответствующую форму, аки мякиш в душистую корочку, судить читателям. Лаконичность английского языка как способствует переводу (в некоторых случаях выявляя несомненное преимущество кратких "британцев" перед длинными, порой витиеватыми русскими словами, "врожденное" умение точного выражения целой фразы при помощи одного слова), так и привносит некий флёр разночтений, точнее, вынужденность при выборе требуемого материала среди синонимичного ряда.
Если, все же, результат для кого-то не будет перекликаться с ожиданиями либо, возможно, покажется недостаточно точным подстрочником, прошу не забрасывать каменьями 
С уважением к автору, Константину Никольскому и почтенной публике.
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Translations have been done as close as possible to the original in order to keep song's musical rhythm while singing.
«MUSICIAN» («FIDDLER») - originally «A VENETIAN MUSICIAN»
On having his frock-coat hung upon a chair‘s back,
A fiddler set correct a shifted bow around his neck
C'mon take a close approach for a clear perceiving,
So unless you’re getting too much drunk:
REFRAIN: As regards those wretched and lucky, good and evil states,
A sacred loving and a savage hate;
What has happened on your soil and what’s going on here
A fiddle telling you a melody with strings to hear.
The years of yours are going by as well as day concerns
You must confess: the destiny you’d scarcely discern;
A fiddle's sounds can evoke you when arousing a secret joy,
So unless you’re getting too much drunk:
REFRAIN:
The fiddle’s grown tired affected by a painful fear
The fiddler got fatigued with bitter vinous sip to bear,
Then he’s gone upon neglecting an abandoned threadbare case, -
As if being drunk, said no goodbye, seemed to amaze.
For a melody's remained for breezing in the leaves,
It’s hardly audible among a human noise:
As regards those wretched and lucky, good and evil states
A sacred loving and a savage hate…
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On having his frock-coat hung upon a chair‘s back,
A fiddler used his thrilling hand to set a bow at neck…
«SOME EVIL STAYS AT SOUL OF MINE»
Some evil stays at soul of mine
Along with ashes of bygone
As joys as sorrows of the past
Are discontinued under dust,
My mind alone can spin a rope
Beyond the weakest link of hope
To make a desperate attempt
To change the least…
The idle talks, a hazy mind
The caves and castles, shade and sun
The reassuring sign of relief
To stand one’s ground on belief,
When useless junk is to emerge
As littered soul to have been purged
Send rooted fear away the eyes
And leave the darkness for the light
The way it used to mark the prime.
To knot the weakest link of hope
When it’s perceived the life’s a slope
As the attempt to have been made
To change the least with that attempt,
You’d better keep the faith in game
No candle’s worth of being restrained.
The long run will reveal the man
Who’s burst into the tongues of flame.
Some evil stays at soul of mine
Along with ashes of bygone
As joys as sorrows of the past
Are discontinued under dust,
My mind alone can spin a rope
Beyond the weakest link of hope
To make a desperate attempt
To change the least…
