Vladimir Vysotsky. A Ballad of Time.
A Ballad of Time.
Time has brought down the castle and covered with grass,
Where the walls stood, grow nettles and thistles.
But the granite’s tranquility won’t always last,
Of old triumphs, campaigns and collisions.
Time hasn’t tombed these deeds under the thistle:
Scores of padlocks will fall, scores of chains will be shed,
These old times will to you be familiar enough,
And their melodies will sound sublime,
For the reason that love will forever be love,
Even in your remote future time.
Steel would crack with a clank, at the slash of the sword,
And the bow-string would fume under tension,
Death would settle on lances, and bawl, sitting squat,
And yield to their defeaters’ discretion.
But not all who avoided destruction
It feels fine to be rocked by the horse’s smooth gait,
What about the mean creatures, how hard is their fate?
Are the witches as usual spitfire?
Don’t disaster and evil remain just the same
Even there, in your kind future time?
At all times, in all different parts of the world,
People scorn scoundrels, cowards and traitors.
Foe is foe, and to fight with is our only work,
And we always set hopes on the better.
Time will never abolish these notions,
All’s as it was before and will be, my old friend —
Plainness, purity come from the ancients to us,
From the past, we take legends and tales,
For the good at all times is the good — in the past
And in future, as well as at present!