Vladimir Visotsky - "I don't like" (MUSIC VIDEO)

Today is the day of Vladimir Vysotsky commemoration. The Soviet singer, bard, songwriter, poet and actor whose career had an immense and enduring effect on Russian culture died 32 years ago at the age of 42.


Song: "I don't like"
Lyrics and music: Vladimir Vysotsky


Vladimir Vysotsky, a Soviet singer, bard, songwriter, poet and actor whose career had an immense and enduring effect on Russian culture. He became widely known for his unique singing style and for his lyrics, which featured social and political commentary. Though his work was largely ignored by the official Soviet cultural establishment, he achieved remarkable fame during his lifetime, and to this day exerts significant influence on many of Russia's popular musicians and actors who wish to emulate his iconic status.


Song's lyrics:


I hate when of fatal outcomes I hear,
I never tire of life, despite its wrongs.
I hate any season of the year
Whenever I cannot sing cheerful songs.

Hype excitement I distrust without heeding
But open cynicism I hate as well,
I hate a stranger over my shoulder reading
To find out what my private letters tell.

I hate stopping a conversation’s track
Or anything done only halfway through.
I hate when people are shot in the back
And shots point-blank, I despise them too.

I hate gossip as viewpoint affirmed,
When honours prick, when worming doubt I feel,
Or when you always stroke against the fur
Or the sound of glass when scraped by steel.

I hate complacency content and sated -
I’d rather see brakes well and truly fail.
That the word "honour" is forgot, I hate it,
And that "honour" is hiding lies and veils.

I feel no pity seeing broken wings
And it’s not strange I don’t find it inside:
I hate abuse, and I hate helpless things
But it’s too bad that Christ was crucified.

I hate myself, when cowardly I crawl;
Innocents being beaten, I abhor,
I hate it, when they push into my soul,
And spitting in it, I hate even more.

I hate manèges and arenas; there
They trade rubles for millions, hand in glove.
Let changes come ahead; I do not care -
These things I will never, ever love!
 

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