VLADIMIR VYSOTSKY
(1938-1980)
The Beatles, as once was said, prevented the third world war. They didn’t do it purposely – they just wrote their magic music and it united people all over the planet. Vladimir Vysotsky crushed the communist regime in the USSR. He didn’t do it purposely – he just wrote his magic songs and they rammed a large hole in the concrete wall of the communist regime with which the entire country was circled. Now dozens of streets and squares, ships and mountain peaks and even an airport (exactly like in Lennon’s case) carry the name of Vladimir Vysotsky. A great number of monuments to this man have been erected not only across the territory of the former USSR, but in numerous Eastern European countries as well – in Poland, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Belorussia, Montenegro. One of the most popular jokes of the 1970s in the USSR : “In the future a schoolboy reads about Leonid Brezhnev (then the ruler of the USSR) in an encyclopedia – “Brezhnev, a petty political adventurist who lived in the Vysotsky Era”.
Who was this man? An outstanding theatrical and movie actor, a composer and a unique vocalist. But most of all – a true poetic genius who wrote his own songs and each new song by him became a social phenomenon in the USSR. In the stuffy political atmosphere in the country, his songs were like gulps of oxygen into the eroded lungs of the community. Vysotsky was an independent artist. When now an artist in the West is called “independent” it means he/she is not dependent on the big record labels or show businesses. Back in the USSR to be an independent artist meant to send to hell the official governmental rules and regulations and not care about the severe social and cultural restrictions. Risking your life for this. That’s why Vysotsky lived a short life – only 42 years. This short life deserves a long description which can’t be done here. So I will concentrate only on the unparalleled features of his poetry which was manifested in his self-crafted songs which he composed and recorded just in front of his tape recorder’s microphone at home.
Here is my translation of the song, performed in English
by an American artist 'Andy the Doorbum'
A RECIDIVIST - Vladimir Vysotsky
It was Sunday – that is why I abstained from pocket picking,
Like all people I must rest one day at least!
But then – bang! – a whistle blows, I am captured, someone’s shrieking: “He’s a thief and he’s a damn recidivist!”
“Easy, buddy, don’t get pissed, My name’s Luzhin, is it clear?
And who’s this recidivist – I don’t have a deuced idea!”
It was Sunday, but the cops hustled on with no repose –
They must carry out a plan for catching thieves! If a cop on duty catches a repeater, I suppose, A promotion and bonus he receives! I was brought to the police, Captain met me with a sneer: “Welcome home, recidivist! Sign the protocol down here!”
It was Sunday – in the park folks were strolling, dating, chatting, In the sky the sun was careless and glad;
But for me the day was black as at the station I was sweating,
With the Captain’s questions banging on my head:
“Times in jail? – the captain quizzed. “Listen, cap, it’s a delusion!” – “But you’re a recidivist?” – “No, comrade, I am Luzhin”.
It was Sunday but for me ‘twas the day of perspiration,
I was hoodwinking, confessing no crimes; But the captain took a pen and did a thorough calculation And he said I’d been in prison seven times! “Sign your name, - he clenched his fist. Be precise, I hate confusion!” So I signed – “Recidivist”, And then added – “Surname: Luzhin!”
It was Sunday - I was crushed, Captain being hard and pushy,
Yet there’s one thing that improves my gloomy moods –
I have made my very modest, though honest, contribution
To the seven year plan for catching hoods!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2013
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