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Guitar Poets (Bards)

Guitar Poets (Bards). Bulat Okudzhava (1924-1997) Alexander Galich (1919-1977) Vladimir Vysotsky (1938-1980). Okudzhava: Song of the Arbat. 1. You flow like a river with your strange name And your asphalt transparent like water in a river. Oh my Arbat, you are my vocation,

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Guitar Poets (Bards)

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  1. Guitar Poets (Bards) • Bulat Okudzhava (1924-1997) • Alexander Galich (1919-1977) • Vladimir Vysotsky (1938-1980)

  2. Okudzhava: Song of the Arbat • 1. You flow like a river with your strange name • And your asphalt transparent like water in a river. • Oh my Arbat, you are my vocation, • You are my joy and my misfortune.

  3. 2. Your pedestrians are not exalted people, • Their heels pound, they hurry on their way. • Oh my Arbat, you are my religion, • Your roadway lies beneath me. • 3. I will never get over loving you, • Even loving forty thousand other roadways. • Oh my Arbat, you are my native land, • No one could ever come to the end of you.

  4. Okudzhava: Francois Villon’s Prayer • 1. While the earth is still turning, while the light is still bright, • Lord, grant Thou to each man that which he lacks: • To the wise man grant brains, to the coward a steed, • Grant the lucky man money…And don’t forget about me.

  5. 2. While the earth is still turning,--Lord, it is in Thy power!-- • Grant the man who wants power to rule to his heart’s content, • Grant the generous man a respite, if only to the end of the day, • To Cain grant repentence…And don’t forget about me.

  6. 3. All is in Thy power: I believe in Thy wisdom, • As the dead soldier believes he’s living in heaven, • As each ear believes Thy silent speeches, • As we ourselves believe, not knowing what we do.

  7. 4. Lord, my God, my green-eyed one! • While the earth is still turning, amazed it’s still turning, • While it still has time and fire, • Grant Thou a little to everyone…And don’t forget about me.

  8. Galich: Clouds • The clouds float, the clouds, • They slowly float, like in the movies. • While I eat chicken tabaka, • I’ve a half-kilo of cognac. • The clouds float to Abakan, • They slowly float, the clouds. • They’re warm, must be, the clouds, • While I’m chilled through for all time.

  9. Like a horseshoe, I’m frozen into the sleigh track, • Into the ice that I poked with a pickaxe! • For I didn’t waste twenty years • Noising through those camps for nothing. • I still have snow crust in my eyes! • I still have the racket of body searches in my ears!… • Hey, serve me up some pineapple • And two hundred grams more of cognac!

  10. The clouds float, the clouds, • To that nice old place, Kolyma. • And they don’t have to have their own lawyer, • Amnesty is something they don’t need. • I myself live -- first class! • Twenty years, like a day, exchanged! • In a bar I sit like a lord • And even have some teeth still left!

  11. The clouds float toward the dawn, • They don’t have pensions or worries… • While on the fourteenth I get a payment • And on the twenty-third another. • And on these days, just like me, • Half the country sits in the pubs! • And like our memories back to those places • The clouds float, the clouds...

  12. Galich: When I return... • When I return… • Don’t laugh when I return, • When I run by, not touching the ground, over the February snow, • Along a hardly noticeable trail--toward warmth and shelter-- • And trembling with happiness, I’ll look around at your birdcall-- • When I return. O, when I return!...

  13. Listen, listen, don’t laugh, • When I return • And straight from the station, making it fiercely through customs, • And straight from the station--I’ll tear into the cheap, • Worthless, black city which I swear at and swear by • When I return. • O, When I return!..

  14. When I return, • I’ll go to that one, sole house • Where the sky can’t compete with its blue dome, • Where the odor of incense, like the smell of fresh bread, • Will hit me in the face and wash over my heart-- • When I return. • O, when I return!

  15. When I return, • Nightingales will sing in February-- • That old melody--begun in the past and forgotten. • And I’ll fall down, • Overcome by my victory, • And will shove my head into the harbor of your lap! • When I return. • But when will I return?!..

  16. Veronika Dolina (b. 1956) • I have discovered myself; • I whisper to myself. • Yesterday I was wingless, • But today I will fly • Over a well-known street • And over a slow river • And over an old school • And over mama’s cheek.

  17. How everything dear was warm, • How it hugged my shoulder. • Yesterday I was wingless • But today I will fly • Over an incautious word, • Over a circling leaf, • And over a trembling • Railroad bridge.

  18. Is it a force of nature? • Is it the height? • Yesterday I was wingless, • But today I’m not the same. • Someone will show me the ground • From above like a little meadow. • On a hill stands mama waving • A little scarlet flag.

  19. There was a time of laughter, tears • Are never wasted. • Storms to the left and to the right, • Nearby flocks of clouds. • No matter how they agonized and shouted, • The ones who stayed down on the meadow, • Yesterday I would have been among you, • But today I cannot be.

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