The stormy sea cannot relax, Black foam flying in the air, And hitting rocks in wild attacks, The waves are breaking their necks - And from a cliff at this I stare. Of course, I pity those that are Destroyed and killed - but from afar! The waves are furious and mad, They wail with pain and indignation! They want to live but die instead, Itís such a shame if you fall dead When you have reached your destination! Of course, I pity those that are Destroyed and killed - but from afar!
The wind would ruffle up and shock White crests of waves which roar from ripping, The waves would crash against a block And would collapse as from a knock, Or as a horse would fall from tripping! Of course, I pity those that are Destroyed and killed - but from afar!
And then will come the turn of mine, Iím drawn by winds to dark abysses, Iíve noticed an evil sign That I would break one day my spine, My head and heart would go to pieces! Theyíll pity me, destroyed and killed, But from afar, no tear spilled!               A lot of folks sit on the shores, Indifferent, calm and never shaking To see the others sink because Some awful force directly draws Them on the rocks where backs are breaking! These people pity those who are Destroyed and killed - but from afar!
               
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2003
Edited by Robert Titterton