Poems and Songs of Vladimir Vysotsky. Serving the Elements.

We put out to ocean...Translated by Akbar Muhammad.

We put out to ocean,
Having not hoisted sails,
And in our strong boat,
In the deep we’re quite safe.
But if we get exposed —
May occur such a case,
Sirens will stir up souls,
Mourning for our fate.

Save our dying souls!
We drow in our lasts.
Save our dying souls!

Make haste to us!

Rid us of our sorrows —
We’re locked up in the gulf,
And strain holds our souls

And cuts in halves...

Here’s the recycled air,
Stale in rain or in shine.
Here are nor nights nor days, and
Calm has kept through all time.
All has kept but the air,
Which has gotten dead with time...
Thus we’re bound to spare,
Not dear now, our life.

Save our dying souls!
We drow in our lasts.
Save our dying souls!

Make haste to us!

Rid us of our sorrows —
We’re locked up in the gulf,
And strain holds our souls

And cuts in halves...

In the dead air rave we,
But aren’t able to go dry —
There the fire awaits us
From the left side and right...
For the fresh air crave we,
And blaspheme our life,
’Cause the horned mines await us
As ahead as behind...

Save our dying souls!
We drow in our lasts.
Save our dying souls!

Make haste to us!

Rid us of our sorrows —
We’re locked up in the gulf,
And strain holds our souls

And cuts in halves...

We’ll come up in the morning,
Our captain has said.
Well, then we’ll go to glory,
What means we’ll go to death.
We must die in the morning
At the very best age,
To protect our honor
And the planet aflame.

Save our dying souls!
We drow in our lasts.
Save our dying souls!

Make haste to us!

Rid us of our sorrows —
We’re locked up in the gulf,
And strain holds our souls

And cuts in halves...

We go up to the surface,
And the enemy waits.
Dears, abandon your hopes,
Soon we’ll face our death.
We go up to the morning,
Our children and wives —
And we rush to the morning
Through the fire and mines!..

Save our dying souls!
We drow in our lasts.
Save our dying souls!

Make haste to us!

Rid us of our sorrows —
We’re locked up in the gulf,
And strain holds our souls

And cuts in halves...

Save our dying souls!
Save our dying souls!
Save our dying souls!
Save our dying souls!
Save our dying souls...

1967.

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