Alexander Galich in “Night Watch” on a procession of monuments and a bronze generalissimo

When the festivities die down in the city,
When sinners sleep and the righteous too,
The state storerooms
Quietly let the monuments slip away.
Hundreds of thousands (all of them alike)
Go along the moonlit path,
And chance passers-by
Tumble head over heels into the "emergency ambulance"
And the drums beat!..
The drums beat,
Beat, beat, beat!
On the clock the pendulum freezes,
The hands strain to run backwards:
A lone monument strides along,
Repeated a thousandfold.
Now he is in bronze, now in marble,
Now with a pipe, now without a pipe,
And behind him, like lambs on the sea,
Hurry the plaster stumps.
And the drums beat!..
The drums beat,
Beat, beat, beat!
I will open the window, I will lean out,
A shudder will run through me, as though a hundred degrees Celsius!
I see: a bronze generalissimo
Is leading a jesters' procession!
He comes out onto the place of execution,
Genius of all times and peoples,
And, as in the good old days,
Takes the parade of freaks!
And the drums beat!..
The drums beat,
Beat, beat, beat!
Past our house a wall of rubbish pushes on,
Junk forgotten in a corner by the cleaning woman:
Here a boot thunders in march time,
Here a broken-off moustache bristles!
For now they can only creak and grumble,
And leave moulting tracks behind,
But even the button is sure
That it will come in useful yet, given the chance!
And the drums beat!..
The drums beat,
Beat, beat, beat!
The morning of our motherland is pink,
The call signs fly, squeaking.
The bronze one goes back home,
But the plaster ones lie in hiding.
Though maimed for the time being,
Even in dust they keep their likeness.
If only the plaster ones had some human flesh,
They would regain their grandeur!
And the drums beat!..
The drums beat,
Beat, beat, beat!

Literal translation

Alexander Galich, "Night Watch"