The ships will stand, and theyíll head for their course,
But they seem to return through a very bad weather.
Half of the year will pass, and I will appear,
So again I can leave, so again I can leave for half of the year.
Everyone comes back, except our best friends,
Except the most beloved and most devoted women.
Everyone comes back, except those most needed -
I donít trust the fate, I donít trust the fate, and myself even less.
But I want to think, that all this is wrong,
That to burn the ships will go out of existence,
I, of course, will return, all in friends and in dreams,
And of course I will sing, of course I will sing before the year passes.