Vladimir Vysotsky. A Song of Rossia.
Is broken into many pieces,
Now are damned!
And we —
Being gotten into a scandal —
Have to stand!
It’s so difficult to sort out
We can’t tell!
Where’s spirit? Where’s honor? Where’s guilt?!
Where are friends and where are strangers,
Go to hell?!
And shame —
Upon those who choose safe living
Is a sin!
We’ll go —
As a wolf runs for the deerlet,
For their meal.
Where’s the strength that lit your faces?
Grip revolvers firmly in your hands and go!
The end! The end to all!
What isn’t broken seems to be brittle,
Till our very death, to fight against the foe!