The meaning of the lyrics of the song "The End of "Wolf Hunt", or Hunting from Helicopters" (Konec «Ohotyi na volkov», ili Ohota s vertolyotov) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

As if with a razor, dawn slashed across our eyes,

Triggers clicked open like a magical Sesame,

Appeared the shooters, light as a rumor, -

And dragonflies took flight from the rotten river,

And the fun began - with both hands, with both hands!

We lay on our bellies and hid our fangs.

Even he, even he, who dived under flags,

Sensed wolf traps with the pads of his paws;

He, whom even a bullet couldn't catch, -

Also in fear rose up and lay down - and weakened.

So that life would smile upon wolves - never heard of it, -

In vain we love her, the one-lovers.

But death - has a beautiful, wide grin

And healthy, strong teeth.

Let us smile then a wolf's smile at the enemy -

The hounds haven't washed their muzzles yet!

But - on the snow tattooed with blood

Is our inscription: we are no longer wolves!

We crawled, tails tucked in a dog's way,

Surprised muzzles lifted to the heavens:

Either retribution from the sky poured upon us,

Or the end of the world - and a warp in our minds, -

Only they were shooting at us from iron dragonflies.

We were soaked in blood under the leaden rain -

And submitted, deciding: we won't escape anyway!

With our hot bellies we melted the snow.

This slaughter was started not by God - but by man:

For those flying - in flight, for those running - in the run...

Pack of dogs, don't you dare mess with my pack,

In an equal fight - luck is on our side.

We are wolves - good is our wolf life,

You are dogs - and yours is a dog's death!

Let us smile then a wolf's grin at the enemy,

To nip in the bud all the false rumors.

But - on the snow tattooed with blood

Is our inscription: we are no longer wolves!

To the forest - there I'll save at least a few of you!

To the forest, wolves, - it's harder to kill on the run!

Carry your legs away, save the pups!

I'm darting before the eyes of the half-drunk shooters

And calling the lost souls of wolves.

Those who are alive are hiding on the other side.

What can I do alone? Nothing I can do!

My eyes have failed, my senses are dulled....

Where are you, wolves, former forest beasts,

Where are you, my yellow-eyed tribe?!

...I am alive, but now I am surrounded by

Beasts, who haven't known wolf calls, -

They are dogs, our distant kin,

We used to consider them prey.

I smile a wolf's smile at the enemy,

Exposing the rotten fragments.

But - on the snow tattooed with blood

The inscription melts away: we are no longer wolves!

Словно бритва рассвет полоснул по глазам,

Отворились курки, как волшебный Сезам,

Появились стрелки, на помине легки, -

И взлетели стрекозы с протухшей реки,

И потеха пошла - в две руки, в две руки!

Мы легли на живот и убрали клыки.

Даже тот, даже тот, кто нырял под флажки,

Чуял волчие ямы подушками лап;

Тот, кого даже пуля догнать не могла б, -

Тоже в страхе взопрел и прилег - и ослаб.

Чтобы жизнь улыбалась волкам - не слыхал, -

Зря мы любим ее, однолюбы.

Вот у смерти - красивый широкий оскал

И здоровые, крепкие зубы.

Улыбнемся же волчьей улыбкой врагу -

Псам еще не намылены холки!

Но - на татуированном кровью снегу

Наша роспись : мы больше не волки!

Мы ползли, по-собачьи хвосты подобрав,

К небесам удивленные морды задрав :

Либо с неба возмездье на нас пролилось,

Либо свету конец - и в мозгах перекос, -

Только били нас в рост из железных стрекоз.

Кровью вымокли мы под свинцовым дождем -

И смирились, решив : все равно не уйдем!

Животами горячими плавили снег.

Эту бойню затеял - не Бог - человек :

Улетающим - влет, убегающим - в бег...

Свора псов, ты за стаей моей не вяжись,

В равной сваре - за нами удача.

Волки мы - хороша наша волчья жизнь,

Вы собаки - и смерть вам собачья!

Улыбнемся же волчьей ухмылкой врагу,

Чтобы в корне пресечь кривотолки.

Но - на татуированном кровью снегу

Наша роспись : мы больше не волки!

К лесу - там хоть немногих из вас сберегу!

К лесу, волки, - труднее убить на бегу!

Уносите же ноги, спасайте щенков!

Я мечусь на глазах полупьяных стрелков

И скликаю заблудшие души волков.

Те, кто жив, затаились на том берегу.

Что могу я один? Ничего не могу!

Отказали глаза, притурилось чутье....

Где вы, волки, былое лесное зверье,

Где же ты, желтоглазое племя мое?!

...Я живу, но теперь окружают меня

Звери, волчьих не знавшие кличей, -

Это псы, отдаленная наша родня,

Мы их раньше считали добычей.

Улыбаюсь я волчьей улыбкой врагу,

Обнажаю гнилые осколки.

Но - на татуированном кровью снегу

Тает роспись : мы больше не волки!

Vladimir Vysotsky's song "The End of the "Wolf Hunt", or Hunting from Helicopters" tells the tragic story of a wolf pack that becomes the victim of a brutal air raid.

The meaning of the text is as follows:

Allegory of repression: The wolf hunt serves as a metaphor for the repression and persecution experienced by people in a totalitarian state. The helicopters and "shooters" symbolize the ruthless punitive machine, and the wolves represent innocent victims deprived of the opportunity to defend themselves.

Theme of fear and despair: The author vividly conveys the horror and despair of animals trapped. The wolves, once free and proud predators, are forced to play dead, hiding their true nature to survive.

Protest against violence and injustice: Despite the fear, the words of the pack leader sound a protest against violence and injustice. He urges his brethren to maintain their remaining dignity and fight for life.

Tragic ending: The ending of the song is imbued with tragedy. The pack leader, having lost his comrades, is forced to admit defeat. He is surrounded by "dogs" - those who were once prey - symbolizing the triumph of opportunism and conformity over freedom and independence.

The "wolf's smile", which is repeatedly mentioned in the text, is a bitter grin in the face of death, a symbol of unbroken spirit and refusal to admit defeat.