Текст песни Владимир Туриянский - Памяти В.М. Шукшина

"There is a road along the Chuysky tract ..."
                            (Folk song)
                   -----
The light in the window fades
Flies rushing in a glass
And the others, upside down,
Above me on the ceiling.
And in the foothills of Altai,
Somewhere around China
But here is a lack of tea
And, of course, sugar.

Here, in the foothills of Altai,
Chuysky tract runs, winding,
Shaking speedometers
A lot of drivers ride.
The beauty of Paradise lived here
Outrun her wishing
(but the curve did not take out)
Kolya Snegirev disappeared.

And at a busy intersection
There is a village called Srostka.
Here Shukshin is still a teenager
I began to read the classics.
Kam would he become? Russophile?
Or a westerner "frail"?
Maybe he threw his darling edge?
Never guess ...

These disputes, disputes, disputes -
All fences are covered with fences.
And - oh, temporo, oh, more!
Until now - in shit and lies.
These are right, those are wrong -
How much poison came up.
But tell me, right God,
How will we continue to live?

Perestroika, perestroika -
That hangover, then the booze.
And, of course, no matter how bitter,
All of us, in general, are "wolf-fed."
This fun oak tree
He yells: "Break the shackles!"
And they are ready
To kill all for the Motherland.

Somewhere on the river, on the sidelines,
Air cries out a loud scream.
This, blotting out the moonshine,
The men peep in full force.
And on Chuisky - dump trucks,
Behind the bumps
And the brake lights flash
Like wolf lights