The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Comrade Stalin" (Tovarisch Stalin) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Comrade Stalin, you’re a scholar great,

In linguistics you’re the best, I state,

I’m just a simple Soviet prisoner,

And the gray wolf of Bryansk, my friend is, sir.

Why I’m imprisoned, truly, I don’t know,

But prosecutors must be right, you see, it’s so.

I’m sitting now in Turukhansk’s vast land,

Where you, under the Tsar, were once exiled, I understand.

In others’ sins, we quickly took the blame,

Towards a cruel fate, in stages, we came.

We trusted you, Comrade Stalin, it’s true,

Perhaps more than we trusted ourselves, it’s true.

And here I sit, in Turukhansk’s domain,

Where guards are cruel, like dogs, it’s quite plain.

Of course, I grasp the reason, it’s no riddle,

It’s just the intensification of the class struggle.

Rain, snow, or gnats above us constantly fly,

We toil in taiga, from dawn till morning sky.

You kindled flames from sparks here, long ago,

Thanks to you, by the fire, warmth I come to know.

Your burden’s heavier, for everyone you care,

In the night’s blue hour, your worries you share.

You pace in your Kremlin office, filled with might,

Pipe in hand, eyes open through the night.

We bear our heavy cross, for nothing, it’s true,

In smoky frost and melancholy of rain and dew.

Like trees, we fall upon our bunks with a sigh,

Unaware of the insomnia our leaders endure, oh my.

Yesterday, we buried two Marxists, it’s true,

Dressed their bodies in bright crimson hue.

One was a rightist, they later proclaimed,

The other, as it turned out, wrongly framed.

Before departing to the great beyond,

He bequeathed to you his final words, profound.

He asked to investigate his case with care,

And softly cried out: “Stalin, you’re our guiding star!”

You appear to us in dreams, I must profess,

In your party cap and uniform, no less.

We chop wood the Stalin way, with might,

And the chips, the chips fly everywhere in sight.

Live a thousand years, Comrade Stalin, long may you reign,

Though I may perish in this taiga, it’s plain,

I have faith, there will be iron and steel aplenty,

Per capita, for all, sufficiently.

Товарищ Сталин, Вы большой ученый,

В языкознаньи знаете Вы толк,

А я простой советский заключенный,

И мне товарищ — серый брянский волк.

За что сижу, воистину не знаю,

Но прокуроры, видимо, правы.

Сижу я нынче в Туруханском крае,

Где при царе сидели в ссылке Вы.

В чужих грехах мы сходу сознавались,

Этапом шли навстречу злой судьбе.

Мы верили Вам так, товарищ Сталин,

Как, может быть, не верили себе.

И вот сижу я в Туруханском крае,

Где конвоиры, словно псы, грубы.

Я это все, конечно, понимаю,

Как обостренье классовой борьбы.

То дождь, то снег, то мошкара над нами,

А мы в тайге с утра и до утра.

Вы здесь из искры разводили пламя,

Спасибо Вам, я греюсь у костра.

Вам тяжелей, Вы обо всех на свете

Заботитесь в ночной тоскливый час,

Шагаете в кремлевском кабинете,

Дымите трубкой, не смыкая глаз.

И мы нелегкий крест несем задаром

Морозом дымным и в тоске дождей,

Мы, как деревья, валимся на нары,

Не ведая бессонницы вождей.

Вчера мы хоронили двух марксистов,

Тела одели ярким кумачом.

Один из них был правым уклонистом,

Другой, как оказалось, ни при чем.

Он перед тем, как навсегда скончаться,

Вам завещал последние слова,

Велел в евонном деле разобраться

И тихо вскрикнул: «Сталин — голова!»

Вы снитесь нам, когда в партийной кепке

И в кителе идете на парад.

Мы рубим лес по-сталински, а щепки,

А щепки во все стороны летят.

Живите тыщу лет, товарищ Сталин,

И пусть в тайге придется сдохнуть мне,

Я верю, будет чугуна и стали

На душу населения вполне.

In this text, Vladimir Vysotsky utilizes satire to expose the cult of personality around Stalin and the repressive policies of his era. The lyrical hero, a prisoner in the Turukhansk region, addresses Stalin as an unreachable deity, employing flattery, exaggeration, and feigned gratitude.

At first glance, the poem may appear as an ode to the leader. The hero praises Stalin, calling him a "great scholar" and referencing his exile to Turukhansk during the Tsarist regime. He justifies his imprisonment, believing the prosecutors to be right, and refers to the guards as "dogs," explaining their cruelty as an "exacerbation of the class struggle."

However, behind this ostentatious devotion lies bitter irony. Phrases like "we readily confessed to the sins of others" and "we believed in you... as perhaps we did not believe in ourselves" hint at the atmosphere of fear and lies that reigned during that time. The deaths of two Marxists, one a "right deviationist" and the other "innocent," are a vivid example of the absurdity of the repressions.

The image of Stalin, "pacing in his Kremlin office" and smoking his pipe, is contrasted with the image of prisoners who "chop down the forest the Stalin way," and the "chips fly in all directions." This is a metaphor for the soulless machine of repression that grinds up human lives.

The final stanza, with its wish for Stalin to live a thousand years and its belief in a bright future with "enough pig iron and steel per capita," sounds especially sarcastic against the backdrop of the lyrical hero's tragic fate, doomed to "die in the taiga."

Thus, Vysotsky's poem, disguised as praise, is a sharp indictment of Stalinism, its cruelty, and its absurdity.