Lingua   

Он не вернулся из боя

Vladimir Semënovič Vysotskij / Владимир Семёнович Высоцкий
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Versione inglese di Viacheslav Chetin tratta da questo video...
HE HASN'T RETURNED FROM THE COMBATK.I.A
Everything is not right? Why? It looks as the same:
Sky above, is as blue as it always,
Same is forest, the river, and also the air
But he hasn't returned from the combat,
Same is forest, the river, and also the air
But he hasn't returned from the combat.
Why is everything wrong? Looks like nothing has changed:
Vault of heaven, again, the same azure,
The same wood, the same air, the same water, again,
Only he isn’t back – killed in action.
I can't now get straight, who was true there from us
In disputes without sleeping and repose.
It became not to snatch him only, today,
When he has not come back from the combat,
Same is forest, the river, and also the air
But he hasn't returned from the combat.
Now it’s late to decide whose account was more sound
In our wrangles void of bedtime and leisure.
I have only begun to feel need of him now
That he hasn’t returned, killed in action.
He kept silence out of place and not in tact joined in song,
Always talking a different matter
He didn't let me to sleep, he got up with the sun,
But yesterday didn't return from the combat,
He didn't let me to sleep, he got up with the sun,
But yesterday didn't return from the combat.
He sang songs out of tune, he kept mute out of place,
Speaking far from the point was his fashion,
He was up with the birds, he disrupted my rest,
And, the other day, was killed in action.
That, it's emptily now, not a matter for talk
We were two- only now I noticed,
As a wind blew out bonfire for me,
When he hasn't returned from combat.
As a wind blew out bonfire for me,
When he hasn't returned from combat.
It is needless to say I’m like empty within –
We’re a duo, it suddenly flashes.
It’s for me like a fire blown out by the wind,
Now that he isn’t back, killed in action.
Teared away as from captivity spring,
By mistake I desided to hail him:
"Pal, leave something to smoke",- only silence in response,
Yesterday he remained in the battle,
"Pal, leave something to smoke",- only silence in response,
Yesterday he remained in the battle.
Free, as if out of jail, Spring is raging around.
I turn round to him by distraction:
‘Brother, give me a smoke,’ – in response not a sound,
He, the other day, was killed in action.
Those who died won't leave us in trouble,
Our fallen - as senturies are standing...
Sky reflects in the forest, as in the water,
In the azure the trees are all painted,
Sky reflects in the forest, as in the water,
In the azure the trees are all painted.
In a mess, killed in action will never desert us,
Our fallen will always stand ground.
Wild blue yonder is mirrored in wood, like in water,
And cerulean trees stand around.
In dug-out for us there was place quite enough,
Time was flowing for us just for both...
Everything now for one, but it's going to seem,
That it's me who haven't returned,
Everything now for one, but it's going to seem,
That it's me who haven't returned.
In a blindage, there’s been room enough for the two,
For the two, time’s been evenly measured.
All is left but to one. Only there is a mood
It is me who’s not back, killed in action.


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