VLADIMIR VYSOTSKY (1938-1980)
Vladimir Vysotsky wrote about twenty war songs. The songs where he depicts different situations happening to soldiers at war. That would be natural to a person who himself fought in the battles of the WWII.
Vysotsky could not be that person as at the time of that war he was a preschool kid. Surprisingly, in his songs, born by his outstanding imagination, he managed to recreate the war atmosphere with such precision and truth that the war veterans, on hearing his war songs, were absolutely sure that he was their brother-in-arms, who served just in the neighboring platoon, they could swear!
One of the most astonishing war songs by Vysotsky is “The Letter” song. Vysotsky wrote it in such a manner that listeners got a full impression that this song had been written by soldiers themselves in the trenches.
It’s an amazing stylization which leaves no doubts that it is exactly so! It is simple in form, rather primitive in content and exceedingly sentimental – those very features of an amateurish songwriting. Vysotsky wrote this song as a sound track to one of the war films where he played the role of a war veteran.
My translation of this song is performed by the American recording artist and producer BO HOSS (Washington State, USA).
A Letter
Twenty minutes to go
Till the tanks start the show,
Till the mortars a concert arrange.
Soon your life won’t matter …
At this moment a letter
A young private received as he sat in his trench.
It is so exciting
When your girlfriend is writing,
Or your mother is writing or dad …
But this time he would better
Not receive any letter,
As it instantly drove the soldier mad!
It was said in that note:
“Sorry, I hardly wrote.
I will not wait for you any more.
With a man I am leaving,
Hope you won’t be grieving,
Wish you won’t be killed in this terrible war!”
Bullets sang in the air
And he cried in despair:
“Oh my God, it’s a stab in the back!
With this letter I’m truly
Killed as if with a bullet,
Just before tanks begin their deadly attack!”
From his trench he then rose,
As if coming to blows,
But a blast in his life intervened ...
Slimy mud fingers squeezing,
Glassy eyes, he stopped breathing …
Only scraps of the letter were strewn by the wind!
Performance
Bo Hoss & Cindy Lou
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2001
Audio Video
STYLIZATION IN SONGS