The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Boar hunting" (Ohota na kabanov) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

The mud today is even more impassable,

Above, the sleet, like a god without pants, -

To hell with the rain - it's a holiday for hunters:

They are shooting wild boars today.

They beat buckets and drove them to the swamp,

Wiped their wet foreheads,

Despised the gold of the forests,

Worshipping the excitement of the trigger.

Don't blame the rangers for bloodlust,

You carry hunters in your arms, -

We love wild boar meat in carbonate,

We adore wild boar hams.

The boars were not troubled by the thought:

Why and for what, as if in captivity, -

The boars ran away from the noise,

To find eternal silence.

Bullets flew from the guns,

Hitting indiscriminately, at random, -

As if a fighting pioneer detachment

Was joyfully beating the drums.

Don't blame the rangers for bloodlust,

You carry hunters in your arms, -

We love wild boar meat in carbonate,

We adore wild boar hams.

Noise, a fire, and stew from cans,

And "hunting" vodka - on the table.

Only a wounded animal crawled submissively,

Looking fascinated at the barrel.

And then - alcohol splashed in the canister,

The excitement subsided, as if a battle had been won:

A shot blew off half of the wounded animal's skull -

And the horns sounded the retreat.

Don't blame the rangers for bloodlust,

You carry hunters in your arms, -

We love wild boar meat in carbonate,

We adore wild boar hams.

They told me about hunting,

Turning the carcass over the coals:

"We missed the front, it seems -

The attacks, and the deaths.

It's like we're back in the infantry,

It's like we're back with bayonets,

It's the souls of the surviving front-line soldiers

That find release in hunting..."

Don't blame the rangers for bloodlust,

You carry hunters in your arms, -

We love wild boar meat in carbonate,

We adore wild boar hams.

Грязь сегодня еще непролазней,

Сверху мразь, словно бог без штанов, -

К черту дождь - у охотников праздник:

Им сегодня стрелять кабанов.

Били в ведра и гнали к болоту,

Вытирали промокшие лбы,

Презирали лесов позолоту,

Поклоняясь азарту пальбы.

Егерей за кровожадность не пинайте,

Вы охотников носите на руках, -

Любим мы кабанье мясо в карбонате,

Обожаем кабанов в окороках.

Кабанов не тревожила дума:

Почему и за что, как в плену, -

Кабаны убегали от шума,

Чтоб навек обрести тишину.

Вылетали из ружей жаканы,

Без разбору разя, наугад, -

Будто радостно бил в барабаны

Боевой пионерский отряд.

Егерей за кровожадность не пинайте,

Вы охотников носите на руках, -

Любим мы кабанье мясо в карбонате,

Обожаем кабанов в окороках.

Шум, костер и тушенка из банок,

И "охотничья" водка - на стол.

Только полз присмиревший подранок,

Завороженно глядя на ствол.

А потом - спирт плескался в канистре,

Спал азарт, будто выигран бой:

Снес подранку полчерепа выстрел -

И рога протрубили отбой.

Егерей за кровожадность не пинайте,

Вы охотников носите на руках, -

Любим мы кабанье мясо в карбонате,

Обожаем кабанов в окороках.

Мне сказали они про охоту,

Над угольями тушу вертя:

"Стосковались мы, видно, по фронту, -

По атакам, да и по смертям.

Это вроде мы снова в пехоте,

Это вроде мы снова - в штыки,

Это душу отводят в охоте

Уцелевшие фронтовики..."

Егерей за кровожадность не пинайте,

Вы охотников носите на руках, -

Любим мы кабанье мясо в карбонате,

Обожаем кабанов в окороках.

In the song "Wild Boar Hunt," Vladimir Vysotsky paints a picture of a cruel pastime where the bravado of hunters hides hypocrisy and a thirst for violence. Beneath the grotesque depiction of hunting excitement lies a critique of human nature, prone to destruction and self-justification.

From the first lines, the author paints a picture of an unattractive reality: mud, cold, rain. But for hunters, this is not a hindrance, but rather the entourage of the holiday. They ruthlessly drive wild boars to the swamp, enjoying their own power and the excitement of the kill.

The refrain running through the entire song is the phrase "Don't blame the gamekeepers for bloodthirst, / You carry the hunters in your arms," which exposes the hypocrisy of a society that turns a blind eye to cruelty for the sake of its own pleasure. Hunters cynically justify their actions with a love for meat, hiding their thirst for blood behind gastronomic addictions.

The culmination is the scene with the wounded animal, which, doomed to death, helplessly watches its tormentors. This image is a symbol of suffering and injustice, contrasting with the composure of the hunters.

The final lines of the song open the veil of secrecy over the motivation of the hunters - these are former front-line soldiers who are looking for an outlet for their suppressed instincts in killing animals. For them, hunting is a way to drown out the traumas of war, to feel the taste of adrenaline and power over life and death again.

Thus, "Wild Boar Hunt" is not just a song about hunting, but a multi-layered metaphor for human cruelty, hypocrisy and the search for an outlet for suppressed aggression.