Милицейский протокол [Militseysky protokol] [English translation]

Just think, like we do, that we've barely been drinking.

I swear to God, man. Seryoga, tell him!

And if we didn't grind vodka from sawdust,

There'd be no more than five bottles for us!

...By the storeroom counter, we drank the second,

That was just for starters, however.

Then, in the square, by the children's playground,

After... Don't remember, it all went down.

You bet: I drank from the bottle, hadn't eaten, was too tired,

But I was just like glass, glazed over, completely wired.

And when a stroller came, its wheels turning,

We'd hit seven hundred mils per person!

True, we dragged off the third by force, but then, you see...

We'd had a mishap, overdid it completely.

Smashed up the glasses of some fella,

And the port-wine didn't make matters better.

The first fellow said to us 'you'd better cut it out,

Don't be thugs, go on, break it up now.'

Straight away, I agreed to 'break it up,'

I broke off, that is to say, I strung him straight up!

But if I abused anyone, then strike me down!

How could I have? Seryoga, tell them now!

'Cos with blurry vision, I hit the deck,

Screamed not from sadness but from being a wreck.

...Now I'm going off the record, let me just say:

What do they teach us at home and school, anyway?

That life strictly punishes these types - no?

See, we agree! Seryoga, put them right!

When he gets up in the morning, he'll say, obviously:

Let life be the on to judge and punish me!

So let me go - it's easier, for your sake:

Once life passes judgement, there's no more to take.

You don't see it, but Seryoga nods along -

He completely understands what's going on!

And as he hushes down, as if from agitation,

It's really from enlightenment and perception.

Don't lock us up, good people, our kids cry heavy,

He's got to get to Khimki, I'm up in Medvedki!

In any case: the buses aren't running,

The metro's closed and taxis won't take us in.

It's nice, all the same, that they respect us:

Look, they're giving us a lift, Seryoga, and putting us up!

We're woken in the morning, not by a crowing rooster,

But by a Sergeant coming up, almost like a human!

They lead us off, almost musically, as we're waking.

I've stashed away a ruble, Seryoga, let's get back drinking!

And even then my brother, our road ahead is fearsome!

Ah! You poor bastard! Seryoga, just keep sleeping!

• Artist:Vladimir Vysotsky