The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Ballad of the One Who Didn't Make It" (Ballada o tom, kto ne dojil) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Someone craved unripe fruit, unripe it swayed

They shook the bough, it fell, it fell this way

This is a song about one whose voice stayed mute

He never knew the sound, the sound, his voice astute

Perhaps, with fate he was at odds, at odds he stayed

And luck had turned its face, its face, in disarray

A taut string on the frets, the frets, where it was laid

With a hidden flaw beneath, beneath, it went astray

He started shyly with a "do" note's grace

But didn't finish it, didn't reach the place

His chord went unheard, unheard, without a trace

And no one felt inspired, inspired by its embrace

A dog barked loud, a cat did roam

Catching mice, catching mice, it made its home

Funny, isn't it, so funny, funny, oh so droll

That his jokes fell flat, flat, without a soul

Wine untasted, lips unkissed, unkissed, his heart concealed

He'd only just begun disputes, disputes, his thoughts revealed

Like droplets of sweat from pores, from pores, feelings unsealed

From under his skin, his soul, his soul, gently repealed

He'd just begun a duel on the rug's terrain

Barely started, barely started, a hesitant refrain

Just getting his bearings in the game, the game

And the judge hadn't even called his name

He wanted to know it all, from start to the core

But he didn't reach it, he didn't reach the distant shore

Not the guess, nor the depths, the depths he did adore

He didn't delve deep, deep down, where secrets soar

And the one, the only one, the one he held so dear

He didn't love enough, love enough, to conquer fear

Funny, isn't it, so funny, funny, oh so clear

That he rushed and yet lagged behind, his fate unclear

Left unresolved, unresolved, a tale untold

All that he left undone, undone, his story yet to unfold

I swear by every letter, I won't withhold

He was a servant of pure style, pure style, his stories told

And wrote her poems on snow, on snow, his love confessed

Alas, the snow melts, the snow melts, his love suppressed

But then there was snowfall, snowfall, where his feelings pressed

And freedom to create on snow, on snow, where his heart found rest

Large snowflakes and hail, and hail, fell from the sky

He caught them with his lips, on the fly, on the fly

But to her in a silver landau, he couldn't reach nearby

He didn't ride, didn't reach, the runner couldn't fly

He didn't fly, didn't fly, his wings were clipped and torn

He didn't jump, didn't jump, his spirit all forlorn

And his star sign - Taurus, in the cosmic storm

The Milky Way lapped at him, lapped at him, cold and forlorn

Funny, isn't it, so funny, funny, time's cruel jest

When seconds run short, run short, and leave us so distressed

The missing link, the shortfall, the shortfall, our lives compressed

Funny, isn't it? Well, you see, you see, we're all so blessed

You find it funny, and even I, even I, can't help but grin

A horse at full gallop, a bird taking wing, taking wing, where does it begin?

Whose fault is it? Whose fault is it? Let the blame sink in

Whose fault is it? Whose fault is it? The answer, we can't win.

Кто-то плод захотел, что неспел, что неспел

Потрусили за ствол - он упал, он упал

Вот вам песня о том, кто не спел, кто не спел

И что голос имел - не узнал, не узнал

Может, были с судьбой нелады, нелады

И со случаем плохи дела, дела

А тугая струна на лады, лады

С незаметным изъяном легла

Он начал робко - с ноты "до"

Но не допел ее не до...

Недозвучал его аккорд, аккорд

И никого не вдохновил

Собака лаяла, а кот

Мышей ловил, мышей ловил

Смешно! Не правда ли, - смешно? Смешно!

Что он шутил - недошутил

Недораспробовал вино

И даже недопригубил

Он пока лишь затеивал спор, спор

Неуверенно и не спеша, не спеша

Словно капельки пота из пор, из пор

Из-под кожи сочилась душа, душа

Только начал дуэль на ковре, на ковре

Еле-еле, едва приступил, приступил

Лишь чуть-чуть осмотрелся в игре, в игре

И судья еще счет не открыл

Он знать хотел все от и до

Но не добрался он, не до...

Ни до догадки, ни до дна, до дна

Не докопался до глубин, глубин

И ту, которая одна, одна

Не долюбил, не долюбил, не долюбил!

Смешно! Не правда ли, - смешно? Смешно!

Что он спешил - недоспешил

Осталось недорешено

Все то, что он недорешил

Ни единою буквой не лгу, не лгу

Он был чистого слога слуга, слуга

И писал ей стихи на снегу, на снегу

К сожалению, тают снега, снега

Но тогда еще был снегопад, снегопад

И свобода творить на снегу, на снегу

И большие снежинки и град, и град

Он губами хватал на бегу

Но к ней в серебряном ландо

Он не недоехал и не до...

Не добежал, бегун-беглец

Не долетел, не долетел

Не доскакал, не доскакал

А звездный знак его - Телец

Холодный Млечный Путь лакал

Смешно! Не правда ли, - смешно? Смешно!

Когда секунд недостает

Недостающее звено

И недолет, и недолет, и недолет

Смешно, не правда ли? Ну, вот

И вам смешно, и даже мне

Конь на скаку, и птица влет, влет

По чьей вине?

По чьей вине?

По чьей вине?

In his song "The Ballad of the One Who Didn't Live Long Enough", Vladimir Vysotsky reflects on the tragic fate of a person who died too young, before fulfilling their potential.

The image of an unripe fruit, plucked from the tree, symbolizes premature death. The hero didn't have time to sing his song, to reveal his talent, to experience all the joys and sorrows of life. "And what a voice he had - he never knew" - these words emphasize the tragedy of the situation, as the person passed away without ever discovering their full capabilities.

The author uses the repetition of the prefix "un-" to illustrate that the hero didn't manage to do much of what he had planned: "unsung," "unsounded," "unjoked," "untasted," "undecided." His life is cut short, leaving a feeling of bitterness and unfulfillment.

The image of snow, on which the hero writes poems to his beloved, symbolizes the ephemerality of life, its transience and fragility. "Unfortunately, the snow melts" - this phrase reminds us that everything in this world is temporary.

The ending of the song leaves a heavy feeling. The hero, who didn't have time to ride, fly, or run to his goal, dies. "Funny, isn't it? - funny?" - this rhetorical question sounds bitter and sarcastic, making one think about the injustice of fate.