Vladimir Vysotsky. Dear Fellows Scientists.

Commentary to the poem “A Lecture on the State of Modern Science”.

As the epigraph to this poem, there can be used the words of Porphyry Ivanov, peace be upon him: “The scientists will lead us to a blockage, they’ll get a block — man will sur­round himself with gewgaws, the earth will be filled with the dead — there will not be natural forces in the air to give rise to anything new.”

Here comes to mind Alexander Pushkin’s toast “Let us raise our glasses...” (adapted from Yevgeny Bonver’s translation):

Let us raise our glasses and move them right now!
Long live airy muses, and bright of the brow!

Thou, hallowed sun, flare on!
Like this icon-lamp is a-paling
In light of the growing dawn,

So all false sagacity’s dimming and failing

By great endless sun of the mind.

Long live holy sun, and let there dark get died!

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