The meaning of the lyrics of the song "The time for introductions and preludes is over." (Proschla pora vstupleniy i prelyudiy) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

The time for introductions and preludes is gone,

All is well - I'm not lying, no kidding:

Big people are calling me,

To sing them "The Hunt for Wolves"...

Maybe someone heard the recording from the windows,

Or maybe they can't make fish soup with their kids -

Who knows - but a tape recorder was acquired

By some responsible comrade.

And indulging in everyday conversation

In the family circle, where the lamp light is dim,

Quietly, so that the neighbors wouldn't hear,

He just went and pressed the "Play" button.

And there, without making out the last words -

A superb copy they got at work,

He heard "The Hunt for Wolves"

And something else on the flip side.

And having listened to everything till the last note,

And getting angry that there were no last words,

He picked up the phone: "The author of 'The Hunt...'

Send him to my office tomorrow!"

I didn't have a sip of wine for courage

And, suppressing a frequent hiccup,

From the doorway, from beginning to end,

I roared that very same "Hunt...".

His children asked him, of course,

To have a smile on his face,

But he listened to me favorably

And even applauded at the end.

And clinking a glass against a bottle,

Which he extracted from the bookshelf,

He blurted out: "Why, this is about me!

About all of us - what the hell wolves!"

...Well, that's it! Now, of course, something's gonna happen -

For three years now, five calls a day:

Big people are calling me,

To sing them "The Hunt for Wolves".

Прошла пора вступлений и прелюдий,

Всё хорошо — не вру, без дураков:

Меня к себе зовут большие люди,

Чтоб я им пел "Охоту на волков"...

Быть может, запись слышал из окон,

А может быть, с детьми ухи не сваришь —

Как знать, — но приобрел магнитофон

Какой-нибудь ответственный товарищ.

И предаваясь будничной беседе

В кругу семьи, где свет торшера тускл,

Тихонько, чтоб не слышали соседи,

Он взял да и нажал на кнопку "Пуск".

И там, не разобрав последних слов —

Прескверный дубль достали на работе,

Услышал он "Охоту на волков"

И кое-что ещё на обороте.

И всё прослушав до последней ноты,

И разозлясь, что слов последних нет,

Он поднял трубку: "Автора "Охоты..."

Ко мне пришлите завтра в кабинет!"

Я не хлебнул для храбрости винца

И, подавляя частую икоту,

С порога от начала до конца

Я проорал ту самую "Охоту...".

Его просили дети, безусловно,

Чтобы была улыбка на лице,

Но он меня прослушал благосклонно

И даже аплодировал в конце.

И об стакан бутылкою звеня,

Которую извлёк из книжной полки,

Он выпалил: "Да это ж про меня!

Про нас про всех — какие, к чёрту, волки!"

...Ну всё! Теперь, конечно, что-то будет —

Уже три года в день по пять звонков:

Меня к себе зовут большие люди,

Чтоб я им пел "Охоту на волков".

In his song "The time for introductions and preludes is over," Vladimir Vysotsky uses the metaphor of wolf hunting to talk about how his art was perceived by the authorities and how this perception changed.

The first verses describe how his song "The Wolf Hunt" reaches "important people" – representatives of the authorities, perhaps party workers. The path of the song to them is not entirely clear: "Maybe they heard the recording from the windows, / Or maybe you can't cook fish soup with the kids around." What matters is that the song is distributed unofficially, "some responsible comrade" listens to it at home, secretly.

However, the song makes a strong impression on this "comrade." He not only listens to it himself but also shares it with other "important people," and as a result, the author receives an invitation to the top.

The scene of the song's performance in the official's office is full of tension. The lyrical hero is worried, he is "hiccupping frequently," but he performs the song "from beginning to end" as if justifying himself or defending himself.

The official's reaction is ambiguous. On the one hand, he listens "graciously" to the song and even "applauds at the end." On the other hand, he identifies himself with the "hunters" from the song, not the "wolves," which speaks of his limited understanding of the song's meaning. The phrase "what the hell kind of wolves!" betrays his irritation and desire to drown out any hints of criticism.

The ending of the song is bitterly ironic. The officials, having appropriated the right to interpret the song in their own way, make it a tool of propaganda. Now the author is doomed to sing "The Wolf Hunt" on command, for the entertainment of "important people."

Thus, in his song, Vysotsky shows the hypocrisy of the authorities, who are afraid of direct dialogue and prefer to use art for their own purposes, distorting its meaning.