home, sweat -suit-suite- home

слова и музыка В. Высоцкого
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trBbH38Ip0w

what a house is/that hushed,
sunk in dark unlit,
opened for ten harsh
and dashy winds,
with all windows
looking on wastesand,
and with infront door
looking on road tract?

oh, I'm tired, so tired - but unharnessed my horse.
hey, somebody alive, come on out, give help!
no one - just a shadow flashed by the porch,
and the vulture came down and narrowed the ranges.

enter in this house -
like into cheepy pub,
and the rabble throng -
every third is a foe.
they'd crook off cheekbone:
uninvited guest!
icons in the wall
are hung crooked as well.

and there started an odd, of a freaky kind talk,
someone groaned a song and distressed a guitar,
and a twichy-sick bloke - a thief and a dope -
under the tablecloth by stealth showed me a knife.

"who can give reply -
what a house is that,
why it is in dark,
like a plague casernе?
lampads' light went off,
air gone spilt..
did you all unlearn
to be and to live?

doors are open wide, but the soul is locked.
who is here a chief? - let my thirst be awined."
and a response was: "seems, you travelled for 'a long -
and forgot people-folk - always we live that kind!

we eat grass and sorrel,
for ages sit on nettle,
our souls got soured,
and allover trashed,
and yet more, from wine
we had fun a wide -
ravaged our house/home,
fought, and hung selves, bustled."

"I got my horse run down, I 've ridden from th' wolves.
let me see the shoar where it is light from the lamps.
show me the place I was looking for -
where it's sung, but not moaned, where the floor isn't clined."

"about that kind chambs
never had we news,
to live in the dark
long time we got used.
from a dateless time
we 're in evil and hiss,
under worn up icons
in carbon filth."

and from the stench, where icons hang down askew,
I rode headlong away, a whip thrown out,
where my horse carried me and my eyes looked to,
and where people do live, and do live people-like.

.. so many years 've sunk, so alot awayed!
life was throwing me - did not finish yet.
maybe I sang of you awkward, not that well,
those night-black eyes, the snow-whitе swan..

#a_ex     #В_С_В