Poems and Songs of Vladimir Vysotsky. The Nature Reserve.

In a yellow hot land...

In a yellow hot land

Called African savanna,

Something happened, quite unplanned —

Cropped up a wicked manner.

Said old Lion o’er that stuff,

“There soon a flood will flow!”

By and large, there fell in love

Giraffe with Antelope.

The beasts began to neigh and bray,
And only Parrot, old and gray,
Declared wisely from his nest,
“Giraffe is big — his view is best!”

“But what’s bad in her nice horns?”

Gave that Giraffe a shout.

“We’re for love and pleasure born,

Forefathers’ norms are out!

If my kin speak ill of her,

Snub her for no reason —

Then I’ll leave my native herd,

And don’t ye call it treason!”

The beasts began to neigh and bray,
And only Parrot, old and gray,
Declared wisely from his nest,
“Giraffe is big — his view is best!”

Antelope’s dad resents

O’er his prospective sonny,

“What his muzzle represents

Is comical and funny!

Never ever will receive

My compliment that dope!”

And to zebras went to live

Giraffe with Antelope.

The beasts began to neigh and bray,
And only Parrot, old and gray,
Declared wisely from his nest,
“Giraffe is big — his view is best!”

So the yellow hot land

Is no longer placid —

Mom Giraffe and her old man

Lament with tears of acid.

But there’s nothing they can do,

The law is gone already:

Their young daughter, hoof in hoof,

With Bull is going steady.

Giraffe was wrong, but who’s to blame?
There’s no doubt of his name —
That one declared from his nest,
“Giraffe is big — his view is best!”

1968.

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