Текст песни В.С.Высоцкий - Расстрел горного эха

In the quiet of the pass, where the cliffs winds are not a hindrance,
 On the steep slopes of these, what no one entered,
 Lived happily ever cheerful mountain,
                        Echo Mountain,
 It responds to the cry - human cry.

 When loneliness clod rolled under the throat
 And muffled groan hardly audible in the open drop -
 Creek that help pick up the echo,
                        will pick up quickly,
 Effort and careful in their hands will carry.

 There should be no people, drunk intoxication and potions,
 To not heard anyone loud stomping and snorting -
 They came to kill, obezzvuchit living,
                        living gorge.
 And the echo tied and stuck it in his mouth gag.

 All night continued bloody wicked fun.
 And the echo trampled, but no one heard a sound.
 By morning shot the silent mountain,
                        mountain echo -
 And splashed stones - tears - of the wounded rock ...

 1974