The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Lecture on the international situation" (Lekciya o mejdunarodnom polojenii) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

I'm not trying to get on your nerves, guys,

But here's the twist, the paradox we face:

Someone gets chosen to be the Roman Pope,

While someone else gets locked in a cramped space.

The best spots there are taken, snatched away,

Clinging on tight, relying on pure chance -

Meanwhile, in all of honest Italy,

No papal candidate could even glance.

Shame they didn't lasso me at the right time -

I'd down a glass and head straight to that clime!

The clergymen were speechless, in dismay,

The Vatican was caught a little slow -

We've slipped them a Pope, just the other day,

One of our own, a Slav, you should know.

Here I sit, in Narofominsk's cold cell.

If only you knew, my life, how it fell,

That I could have been Pope, with robes and might -

And you, my dear, my mother, shining bright!

Shame they didn't lasso me at the right time -

I'd down a glass and head straight to that clime!

In power, in wealth, or with a crown so grand -

Fate tosses people like kittens, it's true.

But how did we miss the Shah's command?

Our descendants will never forgive us, boo hoo!

The Shah admitted his utter defeat -

That was the moment to take his seat!

Where to find one? Here, every other soul,

Is an Ayatollah, even a Khomeini, bold.

All my life I've charged like a ram, headstrong,

But I should've grabbed the Koran, and played along!

In America, Asia, Europe's embrace -

One's unwell, another meets his doom...

We missed our chance for Golda Meir's place,

A quarter of our people called it home.

Whether it's the Volga or the Kama's flow,

Talents drift by, with sword and cloak in tow -

Ruslan Khalilov, my cellmate, don't you see?

Mao wouldn't stand a chance compared to he!

Я вам, ребяты, на мозги не капаю,

Но вот он - перегиб и парадокс:

Ковой-то выбирают римским папою -

Ковой-то запирают в тесный бокс.

Там все места - блатные расхватали и

Пришипились, надеясь на авось, -

Тем временем во всей честной Италии

На папу кандидата не нашлось.

Жаль, на меня не вовремя накинули аркан, -

Я б засосал стакан - и в Ватикан!

Церковники хлебальники разинули,

Замешкался маленько Ватикан, -

Мы тут им папу римского подкинули -

Из наших, из поляков, из славян.

Сижу на нарах я, в Нарофоминске я.

Когда б ты знала, жизнь мою губя,

Что я бы мог бы выйти в папы римские, -

А в мамы взять - естественно, тебя!

Жаль на меня не вовремя накинули аркан, -

Я б засосал стакан - и в Ватикан!

При власти, при деньгах ли, при короне ли -

Судьба людей швыряет как котят.

Но как мы место шаха проворонили?!

Нам этого потомки не простят!

Шах расписался в полном неумении -

Вот тут его возьми и замени!

Где взять? У нас любой второй в Туркмении -

Аятолла и даже Хомейни.

Всю жизнь мою в ворота бью рогами, как баран, -

А мне бы взять Коран - и в Тегеран!

В Америке ли, в Азии, в Европе ли -

Тот нездоров, а этот вдруг умрет...

Вот место Голды Меир мы прохлопали, -

А там - на четверть бывший наш народ.

Плывут у нас по Волге ли, по Каме ли

Таланты - все при шпаге, при плаще, -

Руслан Халилов, мой сосед по камере, -

Там Мао делать нечего вообще!

This song, written in the genre of grotesque satire, sees Vysotsky ridiculing the incompetence and lust for power that reigns in the world. The lyrical hero, while imprisoned, ironically reflects on how he himself could have held any high position: from the Pope to the Shah of Iran. He sarcastically claims that he would have coped with these responsibilities no worse, if not better, than those who currently hold these positions.

Vysotsky uses hyperbole and absurdity to emphasize the absurdity of the situation in the world. He mocks stereotypes associated with different countries and peoples, imagining, for example, that every second inhabitant of Turkmenistan can become an Ayatollah. The song is full of bitter irony and hidden subtext: even while imprisoned, the hero sees himself as more worthy than many in power.