Alexander Pushkin


A lot of us were on the bark: Some framed a sail for windy weather, The others strongly and together Moved oars. In silence sunk, Keeping a rudder, strong and clever, The skipper drove the heavy skiff; And I -- with careless belief -- I sang for sailors... . But the stiff Whirl smashed at once the waters' favor... All dead -- the captain and his guard! -- But I, the enigmatic bard, Was thrown to the shore alone. I sing the former anthems, yet, And dry my mantle, torn and wet, In beams of sun under a stone. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver Arion We many were who filled the boat: Some held the sails aloft and flying, Some plied the oars, and thus, defuing, The wayward winds, kept us afloat. Our helmsman steered the vessel, loaded Full as she was, and onward sent; And I, to them I sang, content And unconcerned... A violent Gale overtook the boat and goaded The seas to fury... All were lost But I who out the deep was tossed By surging waves; my body flinging On to the sands, they fled... Now I Sit drying in the sun and my Old, well loved songs in relish singing. Translated by Irina Zheleznova

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