| My fate is to the last line, to the cross
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| Arguing to the point of hoarseness (and behind it - dumbness),
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| Persuade and prove with foam at the mouth,
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| What is not that, this is all, not that and not that!
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| What - the labazniks lie about the mistakes of Christ,
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| What - so far the slab has not been embedded in the ground, -
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| Three hundred years under the Tatars - life is still the same:
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| Maeta three hundred years old and poverty.
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| But Ivan Kalita lived under the rule of the Tatars,
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| And there was more than one who was one against a hundred.
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| The sweat of good intentions and riots is vanity,
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| Pugachevism, blood and again - poverty ...
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| Let them not immediately, let them not understand a damn thing at first, -
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| I repeat even in the image of an evil jester, -
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| But the subject is not worth it, and the topic is not the same, -
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| The vanity of all vanities is still vanity.
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| Just drink a cup - do not have time on the run,
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| Even if I spill it, I still won't be able to;
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| Or throw it into the arrogant face of the enemy -
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| I don’t break down, I don’t lie, I still can’t;
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| On a spinning smooth and slippery circle
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| I keep my balance, I bend into an arc!
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| What to do with the bowl?! |
| Break - I can not!
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| I will endure - and I will wait for a worthy lieutenant:
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| I'll pass it on - and you don't have to keep in a circle
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| And into the pitch darkness, and into the obscure mist, -
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| Having entrusted the cup to a friend, I will run away!
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| Whether he was able to drink it, I cannot find out.
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| I am grazing in the meadow with those who have descended from the circle,
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| I'm not talking about the cup not drunk here -
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| I won't tell anyone, I'll keep it with me, -
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| And to say - and they will trample me in the meadow.
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| I'm up to vomiting, guys, I'm working for you!
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| Maybe someone will light a candle someday
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| For my naked nerve, on which I scream,
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| And the cheerful manner in which I joke...
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| Even if they promise golden brocade
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| Or they threaten to unleash damage - I don’t want to, -
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| On a weakened nerve, I will not sound -
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| I'll pull mine up, renew it, screw it up!
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| I'd rather take a walk, drink, get stuck,
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| Everything that I sprinkle during the night, I will trample into a fumes,
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| I'd rather turn off the head of my song, -
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| But I will not slide like dust along the beam!
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| ... If, after all, it is destiny for me to drink the cup,
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| If the music with the song is not too rough,
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| If I suddenly prove it, even with foam at the mouth, -
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| I will leave and say that not everything is vanity! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Мне судьба до последней черты , by - Владимир Высоцкий. Song from the album История болезни, in the genre Русская авторская песня