I Declare My Building a Nuclear-Free Zone
Like many of the rock musicians of his generation, Viktor Tsoi rarely delved into politics in his songs; his lyrics were generally more concerned with personal existential struggles. But here the two intersect, in a song concerning the nuclear threat. Though somewhat cryptic, the message is clear enough; in the final verse, the chalk in his hand suggests that he’s about to inscribe his declaration, as graffiti, no the side of the building.
Oddly enough, it seems surprisingly difficult to think of songs from the 80s or thereabouts, whether Soviet or Western, that tackle the dangers of nuclear weapons or nuclear power; Auktsyon’s “Бомбы” comes to mind, but it’s more concerned with war generally — and there are any number of songs with an anti-war flavor in Soviet rock, including a few by Tsoi. In Western rock, most of the references I can think of are mostly in passing, e.g. “Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?” or “They can erase us at the flick of a switch.” (They tell me tomorrow will never arrive, but I’ve seen it end a million times.”)
Two personal favorites by Morrissey come to mind, as well as a 10,000 Maniacs song, which I’ll also post below.
Я объявляю свой дом…
В этом мотиве есть какая-то фальшь,
Но где найти тех, что услышат её?
Подросший ребёнок, воспитанный жизнью за шкафом,
Теперь ты видишь Солнце, возьми - это твоё!
Я объявляю свой дом
Безъядерной зоной!
Я объявляю свой двор
Безъядерной зоной!
Я объявляю свой город
Безъядерной зоной!
Я объявляю свой...
Как не прочны стены наших квартир,
Но кто-то один не подставит за всех плечо.
Я вижу дом, я беру в руки мел,
Нет замка, но я владею ключом.
I Declare My Building…
There’s a false note in this motif,
But where to find those capable of hearing it?
A child, now grown, brought up by a life lived stuck behind a wardrobe,
Now you see the Sun — take it, it’s yours!
I declare my building
A nuclear-free zone!
I declare my yard
A nuclear-free zone!
I declare my city
A nuclear-free zone!
I declare my…
However sturdy the walls of our apartments might be,
No single person can do the work of everyone, propping them up with his shoulders.
I see the building, I take the chalk in my hand;
There’s no lock, but I hold the key.
