Kino (Part II) – theconsultant.net

In Part I I’ve translated some Kino songs for Alan.

I’ve realized that I never translated “Ð“Ñ€ÑƒÐ¿Ð¿Ð° ÐºÑ€Ð¾Ð²Ð¸ ” (Gruppa Krovi “Blood Type”), even though I promised.

We aim to please here, so here is the translation:

Pleasant (lit: Warm) place, but streets wait
For footprints of our feet.
Stardust is on our high boots.
Soft chair, tartan plaid,
Firing pin not depressed on time.
Sunny day in blinding dreams.

Blood type on the sleeve
My sequencial number is on the sleeve.
Wish me luck in fight, wish me
Not to remain on this grass
Not to remain on this grass
Wish me luck, wish me luck!

And I something to pay with, but I don’t want
A victory at any cost.
I don’t want to put my foot on anyone’s chest
I want to remain with you,
Just remina with you
But sunrise (lit: High star in the sky) is calling me on my way.

Translator’s note: Tsoj wrote songs in a rather terse way, with setenses that are not really complete. He is trying to conjure up imagery, and imagery that he is trying to conjure is not necessarily easy to translate into a different language.

Of course Victor Tsoj is dead (in spite of the “Tsoj lives!” graffitti that pops up every once in a while). However Ð›ÐµÐ½Ð¸Ð½Ð³Ñ€Ð°Ð´ (Leningrad) did a kind of tribute to Kino’s Gruppa Krovi:

Tape deck is playing group “Kino”
You are telling me “Turn off this shit”
You are getting headache from random old stuff.
Shut up, this is my favorite song.

Oh, blood type on the sleeve.
Oh, blood type on the sleeve.

Can you be quite for just 5 minutes,
Or wish me luck in the (upcoming) fight.
“Grouppa Krovi” is my favorite song,
And when I feel down, I sing it.

repeat first verse and reprise as needed.

MP3 is available while it’s available.Translator’s (mine!) notes:
Ð»Ð¾Ð¼Ð°ÐµÑ‚ is a conjugated form of Ð»Ð¾Ð¼Ð°Ñ‚ÑŒ – to break. However it is also used as slang for Ð»Ð¾Ð¼ÐºÐ° (literally: breakage), which is the general unwellness feeling one gets when one is craving drugs (or coming down from a trip).

On a separate note about drugs…. Don’t do them, m’kay? I don’t really want to project my morals onto anyone else on the interweb, however not too long ago I’ve read a book by Eugenij Roizman (Ð•Ð²Ð³ÐµÐ½Ð¸Ð¹ Ð Ð¾Ð¹Ð·Ð¼Ð°Ð½), called “City without Drugs” (Ð“Ð¾Ñ€Ð¾Ð´ Ð±ÐµÐ· Ð½Ð°Ñ€ÐºÐ¾Ñ‚Ð¸ÐºÐ¾Ð²). Oh, my…. He talks how in the late 1990s city of Ekaterinburg in Russia got flooded with drugs of all kinds, and how he got involved in fighting drug distribution, rehabilitating addicts, and generally fight the lack of care by law enforcement (that was commonly bought off by the drug dealers and distributers).

Most effective method that actually worked was to handcuff the addict to the heating radiator for a month, feeding him, and once the initial craving got broken, getting him into hard physical labor – construction, etc.

Parents that had “connections” and had clue, were arranging, paying even, police to arrest their teenage kids, and jail them for a year. Jail their children! That’s because even though situation in Russian jails is not great, and cases of tuberculosis and hepatitus are common, people with clue realized that chancing that in jail is infinitely better then guaranteed death from OD, AIDS or hep C in 2 – 3 years. “Normal” rehab didn’t work, and people were back to being on the street and addicts in weeks after leaving care. So people without connections were bringing their children to Mr Roizman, into the care of a NGO fund that he created. Many of addicts to whom Mr Roizman helped went on to lead normal lives – finished universities, married, have kids, and now are thankful to him.