The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Letter" (Pismo) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Half an hour till the attack,

Soon under the tanks we'll be back,

To listen to the concert of explosions once more.

And to a young soldier

A letter was brought from his folder,

A small, blue, triangular envelope he tore.

And as if you're not here,

When you see the handwriting so dear,

Of your bride, or your father, or your mother's hand's might.

But it happened another way —

It seems in vain before the fray

They hurried to deliver the letter to the soldier's sight.

It said at first:

"Forgive me, my words will be curt,

I won't wait any longer" — and that was all the sheet.

Only below a postscript:

"I'm going far, no need to grip,

You fight with a calm heart, and forgive me, my sweet."

With the first explosion's roar,

The guy cried out in despair:

"Postman, what have you brought to me?!

A minute before my death,

In a triangular envelope's breath,

A bullet wound I have received, you see!"

He stepped out of the trench,

With a machine gun clenched,

He cared not for cover or for explosions' sound.

And in the battle by the Sura's flow,

He embraced the earth below,

Only the wind scattered the letter's pieces around.

And in the battle by the Sura's flow,

He embraced the earth below,

Only the wind scattered the letter's pieces around.

Полчаса до атаки,

Скоро снова под танки,

Снова слушать разрывов концерт.

А бойцу молодому

Передали из дому

Небольшой голубой треугольный конверт.

И как будто не здесь ты,

Если почерк невесты

Или пишут отец твой и мать,

Но случилось другое —

Видно, зря перед боем

Поспешили солдату письмо передать.

Там стояло сначала:

«Извини, что молчала,

Ждать не буду» — и всё, весь листок.

Только снизу приписка:

«Уезжаю не близко,

Ты ж спокойно воюй и прости, если что».

Вместе с первым разрывом

Парень крикнул тоскливо:

«Почтальон, что ты мне притащил?!

За минуту до смерти

В треугольном конверте

Пулевое ранение я получил!»

Он шагнул из траншеи

С автоматом на шее,

Он разрывов беречься не стал.

И в бою под Сурою

Он обнялся с землёю,

Только — ветер обрывки письма разметал.

И в бою над Сурою

Он обнялся с землёю,

Только — ветер обрывки письма разметал

Vladimir Vysotsky's poem "The Letter" tells the tragic story of a young soldier who receives a fateful letter just before battle.

The poem begins with a scene of anticipation: "Half an hour till the attack." Soldiers are preparing for a deadly fight. In this tense atmosphere, a young soldier receives "a small blue triangular envelope" – a symbol of connection with home, with a peaceful life. A letter from home, especially from a beloved woman or parents, usually serves as moral support for a soldier, a reminder of what he is fighting for. Reading lines written by loved ones, the soldier is as if transported "not here," forgetting about the horrors of war.

However, in this case, the letter brings not consolation but, on the contrary, becomes a fatal blow. Instead of words of love and support, the soldier at the front reads a farewell letter from his beloved. "Forgive me for my silence, I won't wait" - these words pierce the heart of the young man like a bullet. A short postscript "I'm not going far, you just fight calmly and forgive me, if anything" only intensifies the pain and despair.

The news he received literally kills the soldier before the battle begins. The world is collapsing, the meaning of fighting and living disappears. In a fit of despair, he shouts at the postman, blaming him for his fate: "A minute before my death, in a triangular envelope, I received a bullet wound!"

Deprived of the will to live, the soldier rushes into the thick of the battle: "He stepped out of the trench with a rifle on his neck, he did not care to avoid the explosions." As a result, he finds his death on the battlefield, as if seeking oblivion from mental pain. "And in the battle near the Sura River, he embraced the earth, only the wind scattered the scraps of the letter."

In his work, Vysotsky shows how war cripples not only the bodies but also the souls of people. The letter, which was supposed to be a source of hope, turns into a death sentence. The tragic irony of fate lies in the fact that the soldier dies not from an enemy bullet but from a broken heart.