The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Any fakir before me is just a dwarf." (Peredo mnoy lyuboy fakir — nu prosto karlik) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Any fakir is just a dwarf to me,

I keep them instead of small fry, -

Get me one ticket to Monte Carlo -

I will disturb their cheaters!

I will not be tempted by their beauties,

And at the roulette - if only I could take a look, -

Their gaming tables will lick my shoes clean,

And I'll be on the train - and on my way back.

I will play both red and black,

And in Monte Carlo I will wander all the corners, -

They will be left in their gambling houses

With only their vaunted green tables.

I will bring back a lot of impressions:

I will drink cocktails, listen to jazz bands, -

I will bring back a bunch of their money -

And I will give all the currency to the Soviet bank.

I am saying all this without boasting -

I have no time for jokes: my "graduation" is just around the corner, -

But for the benefit of our dear state

I will surely bring this!

Передо мной любой факир - ну просто карлик,

Я их держу заместо мелких фраеров, -

Возьмите мне один билет до Монте-Карло -

Я потревожу ихних шулеров!

Не соблазнят меня ни ихние красотки,

А на рулетку - только б мне взглянуть, -

Их банкометы мине вылижут подметки,

А я на поезд - и в обратный путь.

Играть я буду и на красных и на черных,

И в Монте-Карло я облажу все углы, -

Останутся у них в домах игорных

Одни хваленые зеленые столы.

Я привезу с собою массу впечатлений:

Попью коктейли, послушаю джаз-банд, -

Я привезу с собою кучу ихних денег -

И всю валюту сдам в советский банк.

Я говорю про все про это без ухарства -

Шутить мне некогда: мне "вышка" на носу, -

Но пользу нашему родному государству

Наверняка я этим принесу!

In Vladimir Vysotsky's song "Before me, any fakir is just a dwarf," the lyrical hero, on the verge of imprisonment ("I have the 'tower' on my nose", meaning a long prison sentence), dreams of a daring robbery of a casino in Monte Carlo. He imagines himself an invulnerable master, before whom any cheaters back down: "Before me, any fakir is just a dwarf."

The hero's goal is not entertainment or enrichment. He wants to "disturb" the cheaters, "lick the soles" of the slot machines, clean out the casino to the last coin, leaving them "with only their vaunted green tables." All the loot, he assures, will be honestly handed over "to the Soviet bank" for the benefit of the motherland.

The text is built on grotesqueness and irony. On the one hand, we have the classic image of a lucky gambler who will "play both red and black," enjoying life, sipping cocktails to jazz music. On the other hand, the absurdity of the situation ("I have the 'tower' on my nose") and the exaggerated devotion to the state ("I will surely bring benefit to our native state by this") betray a satirical subtext.

Vysotsky ridicules not so much the dreams of "a beautiful life" as the hypocrisy and double standards of Soviet society, where even criminal fantasies are dressed up in the form of patriotic duty. The image of the hero, despite the seeming bravado, evokes rather sympathy: he is locked in a world of illusions where the only way to feel significant is to challenge the system, even if it is illusory.