Vladimir Vysotsky. Chances.

FAdapted from George Tokarev’s
translation by Akbar Muhammad.
or the cold we may...

For the cold we may
Feel a traveling zest
Other cities attract us away
Start to Vitebsk or Brest
From our old haunts we may...

There must be a cause
Why we hanker to run
To the cold from household chores
Kind of there’s more fun
There must be a cause...

Homes warm us and yet
We might here remain,
We seek after new friends to be met
Kind of they heal the pain
We in solitude get...

Though the visits we pay
Make us happy, we are
To return on our usual way.
Where’s our lucky star
Here or far away?


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