A translation from Russian of Vladimir Vysotski's "Ya ne lyublyu"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppMAMBgNTUA (http://www.stihi.ru/)
I do not like to face a fatal blow
Since I will never tire to live my life!
I don’t like any season when I bow
To a disease, or loose my vital drive.
I do not like cold cynicism, although,
I neither trust in exaltation, thrill.
I am appalled when someone falls so low
To read my private mail while standing still.
I do not like when something’s half-way, slack,
Or when a conversation is cut short.
I don’t like when one stabs me in the back,
And neither do I like a point-blank shot.
I hate all gossips, edited or strained,
The opium of praise, tormenting doubts,
Or when you’re always brushed against the grain,
Or squeaking, nails on a chalkboard like sound.
I do not like the righteous self-regard,
I would prefer if one just blows his stack.
The words like “honour” are in disregard,
Alas, folks honour talks behind one’s back.
And when I get to witness broken wings,
I feel no sympathy for the demise –
As I don't value bullies, neither wimps,
Though, do feel sorrow only for our Christ.
I do not like myself when I am scared
To raise my voice when innocents are hurt.
And I don’t like if I am unprepared
When someone wants to smear my soul with dirt.
I do not like arenas and big fields,
Where millions are just tallied with a dime.
All those great changes that the future yields
Will never ever make me change my mind!