Ships would stay for a while And set out to sea, But they always come back though the storms are severe. In a year youíll see Me returning again just to go away for a year. Everybody comes back but the dearest chum, But the most devoted, dearest lassie, Everybody comes back, but those needed donít come, I trust little in fate, but my trust in myself is just lesser. But I want to believe that it only seems, That the fashion to burn ships would soon disappear, Iíll, for sure, return, all in friends, all in dreams, I, for sure, will sing sooner than in a year.
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2001
Edited by Robert Titterton