Vladimir Vysotsky. We Have Gone.

Each and every thing...Translated by Akbar Muhammad, partly adapted
from Stas and Margaret Porokhnya’s translation.

Each and every thing
 

 
 goes in its trodden trail:

Speak of what ye think —
 

 
 and they’ll send you to jail,

Thieve — and also ye’ll
 

 
 spend your time being locked,

Know a dangerous field —
 

 
 and one day ye’ll be shot.

I believed in a short while the labor camps must be

Out of sight, out of sight,

But it turned out I came to this town blurred and dusty

With no life, with no life.

Crowds of people walk here but no person seems human,

Every look’s blank and dim.

I looked at the black faces appeared in the gloom and

Saw nor strangers nor kin.

Each and every thing
 

 
 goes in its trodden trail:

Speak of what ye think —
 

 
 and they’ll send you to jail,

Thieve — and also ye’ll
 

 
 spend your time being locked,

Know a dangerous field —
 

 
 and one day ye’ll be shot.

So why said I rude words to my star for its keenness?

What a sham, what a sham!

So why yearned I for so many years for deliverance

In the camp, in the camp?

Crowds of people walk here but no person seems human,

Every look’s blank and dim.

I looked at the black faces appeared in the gloom and

Saw nor strangers nor kin.

Each and every thing
 

 
 goes in its trodden trail:

Speak of what ye think —
 

 
 and they’ll send you to jail,

Thieve — and also ye’ll
 

 
 spend your time being locked,

Know a dangerous field —
 

 
 and one day ye’ll be shot.

1964.

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