The ship’s propeller gutted the dolphin’s white flank. Not a soul ever wants to be shot at point blank. All guns are silent with no munitions to spend. Need to race faster the road’s sharp bend! Sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry! Sorry, sorry, sorry... Reckoning soldiers easily could not meet their foe. Don’t say - Misfortune, if you have hit your toe. All the door hinges - ready to creak, ready to sing: - What is your mission? You better leave! Our sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry! Sorry, sorry, sorry... Long live performers - those who can sing in sleep. All the world corners can well be sunken deep; All the land masses can well decay to grit; All that would happen - won’t suit my need! Our sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry! Sorry, sorry, sorry...
© ?. Translation, 2019