The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Those were the days!" (Vot ransche jist!) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Back then, life was a ride,

Up and down, side by side,

No guards to watch your stride,

Smoke some "plan", join a heist,

Pickpocket with skilled sleight.

For a robbery, you'd invite

A trusty harlot, day or night,

Then grab someone by the might,

And "do a Warsaw" in plain sight.

While they watch, while they threaten doom,

We endure, it's not our tomb.

We've had our fill, but now it looms,

Petrovka, 38, our gloom.

Through orphanage, prison, and care,

Never feared the sentence I'd bear,

But when they took me to the people's share,

A flicker of worry, I couldn't spare.

What a lie: "The People's Court"!

Saw no people, just a resort

For the judge, with ample support,

And the prosecutor, quick to retort.

Answered all their questions true,

But the verdict, a skewed view,

Disagree with the words they drew,

Their formulation, through and through!

I don't deny my guilt, it's plain,

Not my first time in this chain,

But they wrote that I caused pain,

Treated people with cruel disdain.

A lie! I'd approach with gentle grace,

Request a hundred to my face...

What's with the knife, the robbing chase?

Change the wording, make no mistake!

Oh, for a courtroom, a stage to claim,

I'd deliver this heartfelt refrain:

"Comrades, dear ones, let's play this game,

Why complain? You fueled my flame!

You all gave money, without a tear,

No threats, no blood, no need to fear...

A heartfelt thank you, loud and clear,

For everything, on my word, hold dear!"

And this courtroom, would erupt in applause,

As I'd pause, wiping tears without a cause,

In a hushed voice, I'd deliver the clause:

"Thank you for your attention, because..."

It's just not right, it's a blatant lie,

To call me a thief, so sly and spry,

How can I face the world, look them in the eye,

With this wording, as my legacy, I sigh?

Вот раньше жизнь —

и вверх, и вниз

Идёшь без конвоиров,

Покуришь "план",

пойдёшь на бан

И щиплешь пассажиров.

А на разбой

берёшь с собой

Надёжную шалаву,

Потом — за грудь

кого-нибудь

И "делаешь Варшаву".

Пока следят,

пока грозят —

Мы это дело переносим.

Наелся всласть,

но вот взялась

Петровка, 38.

Прошёл детдом, тюрьму, приют —

И срока не боялся,

Когда ж везли в народный суд —

Немного волновался.

Зачем нам врут:

"Народный суд"! —

Народу я не видел.

Судье — простор,

и прокурор

Тотчас меня обидел.

Ответил на вопросы я,

Но приговор — с издёвкой,

И не согласен вовсе я

С такой формулировкой!

Не отрицаю я вины —

Не в первый раз садился,

Но написали, что с людьми

Я грубо обходился.

Неправда! — тихо подойдёшь,

Попросишь сторублёвку...

При чём тут нож,

при чём грабёж?

Меняй формулировку!

Эх, был бы зал —

я б речь сказал:

"Товарищи, родные!

К чему пенять —

ведь вы меня

Кормили и поили!

Мне каждый деньги отдавал

Без слёз,

угроз

и крови...

Огромное спасибо вам

За всё

на добром слове!"

И этот зал

мне б хлопать стал,

И я б, прервав рыданье,

Им тихим голосом сказал:

"Спасибо за вниманье!"

Ну правда ведь —

неправда ведь,

Что я грабитель ловкий?

Как людям мне в глаза смотреть

С такой формулировкой?!

This song, "Those Were the Days!" by Vladimir Vysotsky, uses a lyrical hero, a hardened criminal, to satirize the Soviet justice system and societal hypocrisy.

The hero nostalgically recalls the "good old days" when he was free to engage in robbery. He romanticizes his criminal life, using ironic language and slang ("plan" - drugs, "shalava" - prostitute, "making Warsaw" - robbing). Petrovka, 38, the address of the Moscow Criminal Investigation Department, symbolizes inevitable punishment, but the hero treats it cynically as an expected stage in his "career."

Facing trial, the hero encounters the hypocrisy of the system. The "people's court," in his opinion, has nothing to do with the people. He holds only contempt for the judge and prosecutor. He doesn't deny his guilt but disagrees with the wording of the verdict, which he believes distorts reality. He sees himself not as a violent robber but rather as a beggar who "quietly approaches" and "asks for a hundred rubles."

The song culminates in a fantasy where the hero delivers a speech in a crowded courtroom. He thanks the "people" for "feeding and giving him drink" by handing over their money "without tears, threats, or blood." This sarcastic monologue exposes the hypocrisy of a society that condemns crime on one hand but becomes its unwitting accomplice on the other.