Товарищи учёные [Tovarishchi uchyonye] [English translation]

Comrade scientists, academicians, candidates and such!

You’re nuts on x’s, y’s and z’s - watch out, they’ll be your death!

In labs and stuffy libraries for days on end you mope and slouch,

Without a thought for tons of taters rotting in the earth.

You want to turn mould into balm, you put all trash to use,

And every blessed day you try to find the cubic root,

But while you’re playing all them tricks, which really amuse

Good folks, potatoes in the fields just lie about and rot.

We ride as far as buses’ wheels can get us,

And then, look smart, folks! At a trot!

No whimpering! We all of us like taters,

I guess - when mushed with eggs and salt.

Come on, you can set records here, you can gain European fame,

And digging spuds, you can display your patriotism, too,

Instead of ganging up on dogs - we know the way you maim

Them curs, and carve them up with knives - a nasty thing to do!

Dear comrade scientists, stop all this carving critters with your blades,

Knock off all those experiments on mammals and reptiles,

Pile into lorries, come out here, it’s time for you to swing a spade,

And gamma radiations, they can surely wait awhile.

We ride as far as buses’ wheels can get us,

And then, look smart, folks! At a trot!

No whimpering! We all of us like taters,

I guess - when mushed with eggs and salt.

Come over with your families and friends - it’ll be your home from home.

There will be room for everyone, and when the job is done,

To hell with molecules, you’ll say, and blast the genes and chromosomes,

We’ve done a job of work - it’s time we had a little fun.

Dear scientists, our precious Ensteins and our clever-clever Bohrs,

Beloved Newtons, there’s one thing that I would like to ask:

D’you know where all our mortal remains go? Just think on it, because

It’s all the same to Mother Earth - dung, phosphorites, or us.

So come in ranks and columns, dears! Remember you’re welcome, straight!

Of course you are smart Alecs all, and atheists to boot,

But with those cyclotrons around you’ll like as not soon suffocate,

And here we have fresh air for free - and what a beauty spot.

Dear scientists, you can rely on us - we’re with you all the way:

If things do not run smooth with you - you get the wrong effect -

We’ll get our spades, we’ll get our forks, and hurry to your aid,

We’ll use our noodles - in one day we’ll clear any defect!

• Artist:Vladimir Vysotsky