Poems and Songs of Vladimir Vysotsky.

Vladimir Vysotsky.

My beloved will fairly mourn for my ill fortune...

My beloved will fairly mourn for my ill fortune,
My comates will settle up my affairs and debts,
All the wants I had ’mongst others will be portioned,
And, perhaps, my foes will toast my luck and health.

I can get no longer sheets and pens to write with,
My guitar is broken, it’s out of tune.
I cannot go leftward, I cannot go rightward,
I don’t see the sun now, and don’t see the moon.

I cannot go outside—I’ve been disempowered,
I go from the door and to the wall,
I cannot go upward, I cannot go downward,
I see but a sliver of sky, sometimes dreams—that’s all.

Dreams about how, someday, I’ll regain my freedom,
How again will my guitar sound clear.
Whom shall I be met by, how shall I be greeted,
And what kind of singing shall I get to hear?

1963.

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