Nikolay Rubtsov
Sail, sail, sail...

Through this day's sweaty fog
Let’s shake this sleepy fiord! —
Hey, Captain! You must take
Me as your aid on board!

We will then make our way,
Sail by some ancient tombs,
By churches' old remains,
By human griefs and pains…

Unhappy thoughts — be gone!
Tiresome gripes — away!
Stars in the sky mean night!
Shiny horizon — day!

Come on, let’s sail along,
Sail by those gentle trees,
Sail by those calling eyes
Of orphaned russian kids...

If I shall die — for me
Fire you dare not light!
Just let my parents know,
Visit me at that site.

Searching for that one site,
You can't at all get lost —
To every russian soul
Monument — simple cross.

Yes, we will sail, we'll sail...

Translated by I. Milner