Someone sighted a fruit that was green, was green,
Yet they scattered the trunk - it fell down, fell down…
Here’s a chant on a man that has been, has been
Capable, still of his gift has not known, hasn’t known.
Might be there were troubles with the fate, the fate,
With a chance might be there was hassle, was hassle,
Or taut strings that were laid on the fret, the fret,
Had defects, - at the fret did not nestle.
The note C he started with
But let the timid sound cease…
He struck a chord and stopped it dead
For no one thought it was nice.
The dog was barking and the cat
Was catching mice…
It’s funny, is not it? It’s fun! It’s fun!
He joked, still did not complete,
And didn’t taste a wine be fine,
And even did not taste a sip.
All his wrangles he just wished to begin, begin,
Doubtful, and without adours, adours,
The soul oozed throughout the skin, the skin
Like a sweat coming out of pores, of pores.
He just started a fight in the ring, the ring, -
Narrow start of the game, no more, -
Just a bit looked around the scene,
Referees didn’t open a score.
He wanted learning everything,
Still didn't hover on the brink…
He with a surmise could have done
For he was fit to act indeed;
His love with his the only one
Was incomplete, was incomplete, was incomplete, was incomplete!
It’s funny, is not it? It’s fun, it’s fun…
He joked – did he finish it?
Did not unfold what he began
And was not able to make it neat.
He was honest in his pure rhyme, pure rhyme -
It is true to the greatest extent, extent, -
On the snow the verses for her he did write,
But unluckily snows do melt, do melt.
But besides there was snowfall, snowfall,
And a freedom to write on the snow -
And a hail, snowflakes large and small
At full speed he could touch with his brow.
To Her in a silvery landau
Did not come up the troubadour…
Ill-starred he was right down the line, the line,
Did not fly up or ride up, nay,
While zodiac Taurus, this man’s sign,
Was lapping lukewarm Milky Way.
It’s funny, is not it? it’s fun, it’s fun
When lack of time is a tight spot,
A missing link and a wrong one,
And falling short, and falling short, and falling short, and falling short!
It’s funny, isn’t it? All right!
It’s fun for you, for me – the same.
A steed at tilt, a bird in flight -
Who is to blame, who is to blame, who is to blame?
Russian original:
Владимир Высоцкий
Кто-то высмотрел плод, что неспел, неспел,
Потрусили за ствол - он упал, упал...
Вот вам песня о том, кто не спел, не спел,
И что голос имел - не узнал, не узнал.
Может, были с судьбой нелады, нелады,
И со случаем плохи дела, дела,
А тугая струна на лады, на лады
С незаметным изъяном легла.
Он начал робко - с ноты "до",
Но не допел ее не до...
Недозвучал его аккорд, аккорд
И никого не вдохновил...
Собака лаяла, а кот
Мышей ловил...
Смешно! Не правда ли, смешно! Смешно!
А он шутил - недошутил,
Недораспробовал вино
И даже недопригубил.
Он пока лишь затеивал спор, спор
Неуверенно и не спеша,
Словно капельки пота из пор,
Из-под кожи сочилась душа.
Только начал дуэль на ковре,
Еле-еле, едва приступил.
Лишь чуть-чуть осмотрелся в игре,
И судья еще счет не открыл.
Он хотел знать все от и до,
Но не добрался он, не до...
Ни до догадки, ни до дна,
Не докопался до глубин,
И ту, которая одна,
Не долюбил, не долюбил, не долюбил, не долюбил!
Смешно, не правда ли, смешно?
А он спешил - недоспешил.
Осталось недорешено,
Все то, что он недорешил.
Ни единою буквой не лгу -
Он был чистого слога слуга,
И писал ей стихи на снегу,-
К сожалению, тают снега.
Но тогда еще был снегопад
И свобода писать на снегу.
И большие снежинки и град
Он губами хватал на бегу.
Но к ней в серебряном ландо
Он не добрался и не до...
Не добежал, бегун-беглец,
Не долетел, не доскакал,
А звездный знак его - Телец -
Холодный Млечный Путь лакал.
Смешно, не правда ли, смешно,
Когда секунд недостает,-
Недостающее звено -
И недолет, и недолет, и недолет, и недолет.
Смешно, не правда ли? Ну, вот,-
И вам смешно, и даже мне.
Конь на скаку и птица влет,-
По чьей вине, по чьей вине, по чьей вине?