White sail out in the bay
billowing in the wind.
Why sail so far away?
Why leave so much behind?
Winds must play on the seas
and masts creak in the wind.
Fortune is not what he seeks,
nor what he's left behind.
A golden light still pours
down onto deep blue seas;
this rebel, alas, seeks storms,
as if in storms lies peace.
Белеет парус одинокой
В тумане моря голубом!..
Что ищет он в стране далекой?
Что кинул он в краю родном?..
Играют волны — ветер свищет,
И мачта гнется и скрыпит...
Увы! он счастия не ищет,
И не от счастия бежит!
Под ним струя светлей лазури,
Над ним луч солнца золотой...
А он, мятежный, просит бури,
Как будто в бурях есть покой!
«Into the house he came at last / Where she’d dreamed of him as years came and passed, / Where for an age he’d yearned to be / For she had so decided, and so had he. I swear this must’ve been love indeed, / Take a look: you will recognize its deed. / But listen, go call on the Heaven...»
«St. Elmo’s fire lights up at midnight, / Burns on the mast before a tempest. / It will be warming up our spirits / For all past years, come shine or rain. / The day that we return to Portland, / Like little lambs we'll be the tamest, / Except to Portland, as we reckon, / We’re neve...»
«Time of youth will travel quickly stealing days of happy charms. / What the fates have got in store inescapably comes your way. / One day something most admirable will tap upon your doorway; / One day something least desirable will fall into your arms. Ah, preparing for the doomsday, don't be...»
«"My horse is exhausted, my shoes are completely worn out. / Which way should I travel from here, would you kindly say?" / "Along the red river, my dear, and toward the blue mount. / Toward the blue mount, my sweet dear, you should make your way." "And how shall I find it, my horse needs to re...»