Sacred Haven of Debauchery

The crown has shattered into pieces,
There is no power, and no throne.
Russia's life and its laws - all to hell!
And we, like rats driven into holes,
Like captured thieves,
Only blood mixed with shame.

And we can't figure out anything -
With whom to break and with whom to stay, who is for us, whom to fear,
Where are the paths, where to turn - we don't understand!
Where is the spirit? Where is the honor? Where is the shame? Where are our own, and where are the strangers?
How did we come to this,
Do we really not care about Russia?

Shame - to all who value peace more,
To all who are tormented by doubt,
Whether he can or cannot kill.
Signal!... And like a wolf, and like a bull
And like an eagle on its prey.
Only we will call the crows to feast.

Hey, you! Where is your former firmness,
Where is your former pride? To rest today is baseness!
A firm hand grips the pistol.
The end, everything is over. Everything has broken, shattered,
All that remains for us is little -
Only to shoot in the temple or at the enemy.

Vladimir Vysotsky.

A genius, what can I say...