The meaning of the lyrics of the song "I'm going to die of boredom soon..." (Ya skoro budu dohnut ot toski...) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Now I will wither away from longing,

And regret, swallowing saliva,

That I didn’t finish all the shashlik in Batumi,

And foolishly refused the sulguni.

Even though our tamada talked a lot of nonsense –

Don’t you dare touch the tamada! –

There was a toast to the Motherland, alaverdi,

To Stalin – I thought I was at the front.

And now no one at the table is eating anymore

And the tamada reigns supreme over everything like a sheriff –

As if some other twentieth congress

– The twentieth – is being declared a myth.

The tamada drank to the city, to the aul,

And praised everyone in turn with fervor –

He didn’t hiccup even once –

And I was filled with respect for him.

True, the tamada had

A long toast, alaverdi,

To him – the leader of the peoples,

And for all his labors.

The tamada told me that I was like family,

That if I felt bad, he couldn't sleep –

Then he asked me: "Who are you?"

And I said, "A bandit and a bloodsucker."

Shashlik and alcohol reigned in our minds –

Then someone shouted that he didn't like prose,

That it’s not table salt in the sea –

But human tears.

But here’s the end – they're already drinking from a horn,

Already eating figs and tangerines,

Which grow here easily,

Just like the ones in the market.

All the guests are embraced, and while

They haven't completely fallen asleep yet –

The host’s familiar hand

Raises a glass of Kindzmarauli…

Oh, how I wish I wasn't like this myself:

I may have been quiet, but I drank – no less often –

That I cannot take the sea with me,

And capture all the sunshine of the coast.

Теперь я буду сохнуть от тоски

И сожалеть, проглатывая слюни,

Что недоел в Батуми шашлыки

И глупо отказался от сулгуни.

Пусть много говорил белиберды

Наш тамада – вы тамаду не троньте, –

За Родину был тост алаверды,

За Сталина, – я думал – я на фронте.

И вот уж за столом никто не ест

И тамада над всем царит шерифом, –

Как будто бы двадцатый с чем-то съезд

Другой – двадцатый – объявляет мифом.

Пил тамада за город, за аул

И всех подряд хвалил с остервененьем, –

При этом он ни разу не икнул –

И я к нему проникся уваженьем.

Правда, был у тамады

Длинный тост алаверды

За него – вождя народов,

И за все его труды.

Мне тамада сказал, что я – родной,

Что если плохо мне – ему не спится, –

Потом спросил меня: «Ты кто такой?»

А я сказал: «Бандит и кровопийца».

В умах царил шашлык и алкоголь, –

Вот кто-то крикнул, что не любит прозы,

Что в море не поваренная соль –

Что в море человеческие слезы.

Но вот конец – уже из рога пьют,

Уже едят инжир и мандаринки,

Которые здесь запросто растут,

Точь-в-точь как те, которые на рынке.

Обхвалены все гости, и пока

Они не окончательно уснули –

Хозяина привычная рука

Толкает вверх бокал «Киндзмараули»…

О как мне жаль, что я и сам такой:

Пусть я молчал, но я ведь пил – не реже, –

Что не могу я моря взять с собой

И захватить все солнце побережья.

In Vladimir Vysotsky's song "I'll soon be dying of boredom..." under the guise of an ironic narrative about a feast, a deep satire of the Soviet reality during the "stagnation" era is hidden.

The lyrical hero, on the one hand, enjoys a generous Georgian feast, the fullness of life and the generosity of southern flavor. He regretfully recalls delicious kebabs and suluguni, emphasizing his longing for the sensual pleasures of life.

On the other hand, he finds himself drawn into the atmosphere of window dressing, officialdom, and hypocrisy typical of that time. The toastmaster, elevated to the rank of "sheriff," makes on-duty toasts "to the Motherland," "to Stalin," creating an oppressive atmosphere of propaganda. The author draws a parallel between the celebration and the "Twentieth Congress", which exposed Stalin's personality cult, but did not completely change the system.

The hero himself, perhaps intoxicated by wine and the atmosphere of universal "unity", enters the game, calling himself a "bandit" and a "bloodsucker". This mask is a kind of rebellion, a challenge to the hypocritical harmony that reigns at the table.

The sea in the song is a symbol of freedom, opposed to the enclosed space of the feast with its conventions. "Human tears" in the sea are a hint of the hidden pain and suffering that lurked behind the outward well-being of Soviet society.

In the final, the hero, returning to reality, experiences ambivalent feelings. He envies the owner of the house, who is able to live in this carefree world of abundance, but at the same time understands the illusory and temporary nature of this state.