With all strength, with all legs, I am running But today's just like yesterday. They've surrounded me in a blockade They are chasing me with great joy. From the fir trees the rifles are firing - There the hunters are aiming at shade. On the snow the wolves are curling, Having turn into living aim. There is a hunt upon the wolves, there is a hunt on, On the grey predators, of every age. The hunters shout, and dogs bark till they throw up, There's blood upon the snow and the red flags. They're not giving us equal treatment. But the arm does not touch, does not turn! Having bounded with flags their freedom They are shooting determinedly on. The wolf cannot violate his tradition. As blind pups, as just little babes, We the wolf-pups were sucking the she-wolf And sucked in: Cannot go beyond flags. Our legs and jaws move very quickly. Why then - chieftain, answer us will you please - Do we rush to the shot in a trauma And cannot do otherwise? The wolf must not, he cannot, do elsewise. It's about the end of my time. He, who's bound to kill me Smiled and lifted the gun to his eye. I have come out of guilt, out of fear, Beyond flags - will to live is more strong - And behind me with joy I can hear The astounded shouts of the throng. With all strength, with all legs, I am running But today's not like yesterday. They've surrounded me in a blockade But the hunters got nothing today. By Vladimir Vysotsky Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
