I wrote this poem in Russian, a day later translated it into English.
We tried to find gold dubloons and piastres,
And wandered through enormous water space,
We haven’t flown fast per aspera ad astra,
Along blood rivers winning devil race.
We robbed and murdured, victims had no hope,
And felt no mercy to the weak men sunk,
And our necks were wound with hemp rope,
And we were hung on masts, with horror drunk.
Night sky, stars are the brightest diamonds,
The ship is sneaking, sea is very calm,
Some abrupt phrases, wave with slightest bounds,
There are three hundred miles to overcome.
And suddenly without lights and splashing,
And none could get the nightmare creatures fussing,
All sprang to feet, to deck impetuously dashing,
The Flying Dutchman silhouette was passing,
The masts were creaking, muffled moans were heard,
The skeletons leap-frogging made us bleak,
Without wind the sail filled out,the parrot died, a poor bird.
The time itself had sprung a pretty leak.
From such events we were not waiting goodness,
And riffs were biting greedily our board,
Caramba! Storms have driven us to madness,
Severe northen wind is blowing! Help us Lord!
But far ahead for us the islands waited,
And hands of palm trees waved with ardent call,
The solid ground and green lawns vacated,
We’d find there everything for all.
On one of those islands isolated,
A countless treasure was somewhere hidden,
But how many brave men will be coffin crated,
Who’ll open the old trunk forbidden?
We’ll throw dice for Satan getting naught,
Take gulp of ale to get a special drive,
The distance to the fairy port is short.
Three hundred miles and more, about five.
But now our ship is home and shelter,
And there are no isles in our view,
Strong rum is streaming through the throat.Oh, heart melter!
And our captain’s as a pope in pew.
Well, gentlemen, raise Jolly Roger up!
The sail caught wind! Go rapidly ahead!
We haven’t drained a half of our life wine cup,
The noseless lady* won’t find us being mislead.
*The noseless lady – death.