| Włodzimierz Wysocki - Polowanie na wilki, Vladimir Vysotsky - Wolf hunt Ripping tendons, I'm rushing without stint. But today is same as yesterday. I'm surrounded. I see flags of red tint. Hunters merrily drive me to bay. Rifles are rattling from behind fur trees. There hunters are hiding in shade. Wolves are falling on snow topsy-turvy. Living mark out of them has been made. The hunt goes on onto the wolves. There goes the chase Onto grey beasts of prey, cubs and full-grown males. There shout beaters, and till vomit pack of dogs bays. There are the blood on snow and also red flags stains. On unequal terms hunters with wolves play. But there will be no quiver of hands. Fencing our freedom by flags chain, They for sure slay us with confidence. Wolf can not break the rules and traditions. In our childhood we, cubs blind and small, Sucked she-wolf and have sucked in addition That through flags we must not pass at all. The hunt goes on onto the wolves. There goes the chase Onto grey beasts of prey, cubs and full-grown males. There shout beaters, and till vomit pack of dogs bays. There are the blood on snow and also red flags stains. Our paws and jaws are swift and strong. Leader, give us a strict answer. Why Towards shots do we tear along? But through the ban we can't even try. Wolf must not otherwise. Wolfs' laws ban it. Now my time has been nearly gone. Hunter, for whom I have been intended, Smiling wryly has lifted a gun. The hunt goes on onto the wolves. There goes the ... |
