Парус
Белеет парус одинокой
В тумане моря голубом. —
Что ищет он в стране далекой?
Что кинул он в краю родном?
Играют волны, ветер свищет,
И мачта гнется и скрыпит;
Увы! — он счастия не ищет
И не от счастия бежит! —
Под ним струя светлей лазури,
Над ним луч солнца золотой: —
А он, мятежный, просит бури,
Как будто в бурях есть покой!
1832г.
Михаил Лермонтов
The Sail
The lonely sail is showing white
Among the haze of the blue sea!..
What does it search in foreign part?
What left it in the native land?..
The waves are playing, wind is whistling,
And bending mast is creaking loud,
Alas, – it does not hunt for pleasure
And nor from pleasure does it run!
Below – a bright stream of azure,
Above – a golden beam of sun,
But it, rebellious, asks for tempests
As if the tempests give a rest!
by Mikhail Lermontov,
translated by Dmitri Smirnov
A Sail
Afar sail shimmers, white and lonely,
Through the blue haze above the foam.
What does it seek in foreign harbours?
What has it left behind at home?
The billows romp, and the wind whistles.
The rigging swings, and the tall mast creaks.
Alas, it is not joy, he flees from,
Nor is it happiness he seeks.
Below, the seas like blue light flowing,
Above, the sun’s gold streams increase,
But it is storm the rebel asks for,
As though in storms were peace.
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Babette Deutsch and Avrahm Yarmolinsky
The Sail
A lone white sail shows for an instant
Where gleams the sea, an azure streak.
What left it in its homeland distant?
In alien parts what does it seek?
The billow play, the mast bends creaking,
The wind, impatient, moans and sighs…
It is not joy that it is seeking,
Nor is it happiness it flies.
The blue wave dance, they dance and tremble,
The sun’s bright ray caress the seas.
And yet for storm it begs, the rebel,
As if in storm lurked calm and peace!..
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Irina Zheleznova
