This page is dedicated to one of the great pieces of Russian poetry a small verse, written by M. Yu. Lermontov

Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov 1814-1841

Sail - 1   The sail is whitening alone   In blue obscurity of sea:   What did it leave in country own?   What does it want so far to see.   The wind is strong, the mast is creaking,   The wave is playing with the wave ...   But not a fortune is it seeking,   Nor from this fortune is its way.   By it a stream is bright as azure,   By beams of sun it's warmed and blessed   But it is seeking gales as treasure,   As if the tempests give a rest.  Yevgeny Bonver

Sail - 2 A sail gleams in foggy morning A lonely stranger in the sea What does it seek in country foreign, What kind of trouble does it flee? The waves are swelling, wind is whistling The mast is bending with a creak It isn't happiness it's seeking And not the happiness it flees The stream beneath as bright as azure Above the Sun sends golden rays... Rebellious it's seeking tempest As if the storm will bring it rest. M. Mostov

Sail - 3  A lonely sail's beneath the heaven.  The mist is blue. The sail's within.  What does it seek in distant haven?  What was abandoned herein?  The waves are wild, the wind is shrilly,  And mast has bowed with a creak!  But no, not luck it's seeking really,  Nor from the luck it's fleeing weak!  An azure stream is gently luring,  A golden ray is mild and warm...  But it's the storm it seeks, enduring --  As if the rest is in the storm!  A.Vaysburd

Sail - 4 Blue fog wrapped up a lonely sail Caught in the midst of stormy seas What seeks it in a distant haven? Is there something it will miss? The waves are wild, mast bows creaking To wailing gale, but wind won't cease It is not bliss the sail is seeking And not the happiness it flees The stream beneath is gently luring Above the Sun sends golden warmth Rebellious, he's storm pursuing As if the peace is in the storms M. Mostov

Sail - 5  A lonely sail's beneath the heaven --  A fair dot in misty blue.  What does he seek in distant haven?  What did he leave in search for clue?  The waves are mad in thunder's laughter,  The creaking mast is on its knees...  It's not the happiness he's after,  Nor is it happiness he flees.  Beneath, an azure stream is luring,  A golden ray's assuring ease...  But it's the storm he keeps pursuing --  As if the storm was rebel's peace!  A. Vayzburd

Sail - 6 A lone white sail shows for an instant Where gleams the sea, an azure streak. What left it in its homeland distant? In alien parts what does it seek? The billow play, the mast bends creaking, The wind, impatient, moans and sighs... It is not joy that it is seeking, Nor is it happiness it flies. The blue wave dance, they dance and tremble, The sun's bright ray caress the seas. And yet for storm it begs, the rebel, As if in storm lurked calm and peace!.. Irina Zheleznova

Sail - 7  A lonely sail appears slightly,  With bluish mist of sea it blends.  What's seeking it at distant shores ?  What's left behind in native lands ?  The waves are mad, the wind is whistling.  Mast, creaking, moans without cease.  Alas, not happiness it's seeking  And not the happiness it flees.  Beneath - a stream lighter than azure,  Above - sunbeam of golden warmth.  Rebellious, it's storm pursuing  As if the peace is in the storms.  Alex Mostov

Sail - 8 In pale-blue fog, a far, white sailboat Through mist and sea, sails all alone: What lures him to some distant country, What drives him out, so far from home? The whistling wind, the dancing waters Make music with the creaking mast. No eager hope lights up his future, No happiness fulfills his past. So bright the sun, so blue the water, Below him azure, above him gold. But restlessly, the rebel wanders In search of storms to calm his soul. D. Nakeeb

Sail - 9  Single sail being white  In the mist of the blue sea!  What does he pursue in a foreign land?  Why does he leave his homeland?  The waves are untamed - the wind whistles,  And the mast bends and creaks...  Alas! He does not pursue happiness.  And it is not happiness from which he runs!  Below him the current is brighter than azure.  Above him the golden rays of the sun...  But he, rebellious, asks the storms,  As if in the storm was peace!  Elizabeth C. Baranowski

Sail - 10 A lone white sail gleams for an instant, Adrift in morning's misty haze. What drew it to a place so distant? Why did it leave its native bays?   The billows swell, the mast is creaking, While soaring winds stir up the seas. Oh no, it is not joy it's seeking, Nor is it happiness it flees.   The sparkling waves, they dance and tremble, The solar gold upon them glows. And yet for storm it begs, the rebel, As if a storm could hold repose. Bert Marchal

 

Sail - 11 Your original translation will appear in this space Please send us your comments and submissions

Sail - 12 Your original translation will appear in this space Please send us your comments and submissions

 

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