Ships will linger awhile, plan their voyage, and sail. And though the weather is foul, they will soon reappear. Half-a-year will not pass, and Iíll return without fail, Just to set out again, just to sail again half-a-year. Everybody comes back, only dear friends get lost, And the faithful women with whom we were blessed, Everybody returns, but the ones we need most, I believe not in fate, in myself - even less. I would like to believe all is not how it seems, That the burning of ships is a craze that canít last. I will surely return, full of friends, full of dreams, I will soon sing again - half-a-year will not pass.
© Andrey Kneller. Translation, ?