The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Cupolas" (Kupola) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

How I want to gaze, how I want to breathe today!

The air is cool before the storm, cool and thick.

What will I sing today, what will I hear?

Prophetic birds sing - all from fairy tales.

The Sirin bird sings joyfully to me -

Cheers me up, calls me from the nests,

And opposite - grieves and mourns,

Poisons the soul, the wondrous Alknost.

As if seven cherished strings

Rang out in their turn -

It's the Gamayun bird

Giving hope!

In the blue sky, pierced with bell towers, -

A copper bell, a copper bell -

Either rejoiced or was angered...

Cupolas in Russia are covered with pure gold -

So that the Lord would notice more often.

I stand as if before an eternal riddle,

Before a great and fairy-tale land -

Before the salty, bitter-sour-sweet,

Blue, spring-fed, rye land.

Squishing through the thick, rusty mud,

Horses sink to their knees,

But they draw me with a sleepy power,

That has gone sour, swollen from sleep.

As if seven rich moons

Rise on my path -

It's the Gamayun bird

Giving hope!

The soul, battered by losses and expenses,

The soul, worn out by upheavals, -

If the cloth has worn thin to the blood, -

I will patch it with golden patches -

So that the Lord would notice more often!

Как засмотрится мне нынче, как задышится?!

Воздух крут перед грозой, крут да вязок.

Что споется мне сегодня, что услышится?

Птицы вещие поют - да все из сказок.

Птица Сирин мне радостно скалится -

Веселит, зазывает из гнезд,

А напротив - тоскует-печалится,

Травит душу чудной Алконост.

Словно семь заветных струн

Зазвенели в свой черед -

Это птица Гамаюн

Надежду подает!

В синем небе, колокольнями проколотом, -

Медный колокол, медный колокол -

То ль возрадовался, то ли осерчал...

Купола в России кроют чистым золотом -

Чтобы чаще Господь замечал.

Я стою, как перед вечною загадкою,

Пред великою да сказочной страною -

Перед солоно - да горько-кисло-сладкою,

Голубою, родниковою, ржаною.

Грязью чавкая жирной да ржавою,

Вязнут лошади по стремена,

Но влекут меня сонной державою,

Что раскисла, опухла от сна.

Словно семь богатых лун

На пути моем встает -

То птица Гамаюн

Надежду подает!

Душу, сбитую утратами да тратами,

Душу, стертую перекатами, -

Если до крови лоскут истончал, -

Залатаю золотыми я заплатами -

Чтобы чаще Господь замечал!

The poem "Cupolas" by Vladimir Vysotsky reveals the theme of the Motherland, the lyrical hero's complex and contradictory love for it.

From the very first lines, one feels an anxious anticipation of change: "The air is cool before the storm, cool and viscous." Nature, like a sensitive instrument, is tuned to the upcoming events, and the hero, sensing this, asks: "What will be sung to me today, what will be heard?". The image of "prophetic birds" singing "from fairy tales" refers us to the world of Russian folklore, where birds often act as messengers of fate.

Three birds – Sirin, Alkonost and Gamayun – symbolize different aspects of the perception of the Motherland. Sirin, who amuses and beckons, personifies the attractive power of his native land. Alkonost, on the contrary, evokes sadness and sorrow, recalling the tragic pages of history. Gamayun, on the other hand, like seven strings, "gives hope", instilling faith in a brighter future.

The image of a "copper bell" ringing from "the blue sky, pierced by bell towers" emphasizes the greatness and spirituality of Russia. "Cupolas in Russia are covered with pure gold - So that the Lord would notice more often" – this line is filled with deep symbolism. Golden domes are not only a symbol of the Orthodox faith, but also a striving for spiritual purification, for elevation above the hustle and bustle.

The contradictory nature of the image of the Motherland is conveyed through antithesis. On the one hand – "a great and fabulous country", on the other – "a sleepy power" mired in "grease and rusty mud". The hero loves his Motherland, but cannot help but see its problems, its "losses and expenses", its "rolls" that wounded his soul "to the blood".

But even despite the pain and disappointment, the hero believes in the revival of Russia. He is ready to "patch up his wounded soul with golden patches", just as golden domes adorn temples. And again the motif of hope carried by the Gamayun bird sounds: "Like seven rich moons rise on my way – That bird Gamayun gives hope!"