The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Comrade scholars" (Tovarischi uchyonyie) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Fellow scientists, associate professors with candidates!

You've tortured yourselves with Xs, tangled yourselves in zeros,

You sit there, decomposing molecules into atoms,

Forgetting that potatoes are decomposing in the fields.

You're trying to extract a balm from rot and mold

And pull out roots ten times a day -

Oh, you're messing around, oh, you're extracting too much,

While the potato rots and molds at its root!

We take a bus to Skhodnya,

And then on foot, and don't complain!

I bet we all respect potatoes -

When we mash them with salt.

You can become famous almost all over Europe, if

You show your patriotism with shovels here -

Otherwise, you've all fallen on a tumor,

Cutting dogs with knives, and that's banditry!

Fellow scientists, stop the stabbing,

Drop your experiments, hydride and anhydride:

Get in the trucks, come to us in Tambov region -

Gamma radiation can wait a day.

We arrive by truck to Tambov,

And then on foot, and don't complain!

I bet we all respect potatoes -

When we mash them with some salt.

You can even come with your families, friends and acquaintances -

We will settle down nicely here, and you will say later,

That God be with them, genes, God be with them, chromosomes,

We have worked well and we will have a good rest!

Fellow scientists, precious Einsteins,

Invisible Newtons, loved to tears!

After all, our mortal remains will lie in the common ground -

To the earth - it's all the same: apatites and manure.

So come, my dears, in rows and columns!

Although you are all chemists there and there is no cross on you,

But you will suffocate behind synchrophasotrons -

And here are excellent places - airy places!

Fellow scientists, don't hesitate, dears:

If something goes wrong with you - well, there, not the right effect -

We'll be right there with shovels and pitchforks,

We'll think for a day - and fix the defect!

Товарищи ученые, доценты с кандидатами!

Замучились вы с иксами, запутались в нулях,

Сидите, разлагаете молекулы на атомы,

Забыв, что разлагается картофель на полях.

Из гнили да из плесени бальзам извлечь пытаетесь

И корни извлекаете по десять раз на дню, -

Ох, вы там добалуетесь, ох, вы доизвлекаетесь,

Пока сгниет, заплесневеет картофель на корню!

Автобусом до Сходни доезжаем,

А там - рысцой, и не стонать!

Небось картошку все мы уважаем, -

Когда с сольцой ее намять.

Вы можете прославиться почти на всю Европу, коль

С лопатами проявите здесь свой патриотизм, -

А то вы всем кагалом там набросились на опухоль,

Собак ножами режете, а это - бандитизм!

Товарищи ученые, кончайте поножовщину,

Бросайте ваши опыты, гидрид и ангидрид:

Садитеся в полуторки, валяйте к нам в Тамбовщину, -

А гамма-излучение денек повременит.

Полуторкой к Тамбову подъезжаем,

А там - рысцой, и не стонать!

Небось картошку все мы уважаем, -

Когда с сальцой ее намять.

К нам можно даже с семьями, с друзьями и знакомыми -

Мы славно тут разместимся, и скажете потом,

Что бог, мол, с ними, с генами, бог с ними, с хромосомами,

Мы славно поработали и славно отдохнем!

Товарищи ученые, Эйнштейны драгоценные,

Ньютоны ненаглядные, любимые до слез!

Ведь лягут в землю общую остатки наши бренные, -

Земле - ей все едино: апатиты и навоз.

Так приезжайте, милые, - рядами и колоннами!

Хотя вы все там химики и нет на вас креста,

Но вы ж ведь там задохнетесь за синхрофазотронами, -

А тут места отличные - воздушные места!

Товарищи ученые, не сумлевайтесь, милые:

Коль, что у вас не ладится, - ну, там, не тот аффект, -

Мы мигом к вам заявимся с лопатами и с вилами,

Денечек покумекаем - и выправим дефект!

In his song "To Our Scientists", Vladimir Vysotsky uses his characteristic irony to criticize the detachment of the scientific intelligentsia from the real problems of the country. He ridicules scientists' excessive fascination with abstract, life-detached research, while simple but important tasks, such as harvesting, are ignored.

The image of "potatoes rotting in the fields" becomes a metaphor for neglecting practical needs in pursuit of scientific achievements that do not bring tangible benefits to society. Vysotsky emphasizes this gap by contrasting the "balm extracted from rot and mold" with the "potatoes rotting at the root."

The author calls on scientists to "come down to earth" from their ivory towers, leave their laboratories and engage in useful work for the good of the country. He ironically suggests that they show their patriotism by taking up shovels instead of scalpels and going to the Tambov region to harvest crops.

Vysotsky uses satirical imagery and hyperbole to emphasize the absurdity of the situation: scientists studying the most complex scientific problems are unable to solve the simple task of harvesting crops. He appeals to their common sense, reminding them that all people are equal in the face of death ("our mortal remains will lie in the common ground") and that there is nothing more important than simple human values and caring for the good of their land.