The sail, too lonely, whitens
In bluish haze of sea,
What it looks in distant country?
What left in Own lands he?
A heavy wave, wind's singing
The mainmast creaks and bends,
(Alas) Good luck he isn't seeking
And not from luck he went.
'Neath, stream more bright than azure,
Up, golden ray of sun,
But anxious boat wants danger,
Though there rest's not found!
The Sail Лермонтов - Парус
© Copyright: Дитрих Дэм Даркер, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126040507134
Свидетельство о публикации №126040507134
Рецензии
Твой шикарный перевод меня вдохновил на еще одну интерпретацию.
A sail so white gleams isolated
amidst the sea's cerulean mist!
What does it seek, this sail ill-fated?
What did it leave behind, sun-kissed?
The waves are roaring, wind is whistling,
the mast is bending with a groan.
Alas! It does not look forgiving,
the boredom rushes him alone.
Beneath it waters azure brighter,
above it - sun's terrenity.
Yet it, rebellious, cries like writer
and does not seek serenity.
Анна Иделевич 28.10.2026 15:28 • Заявить о нарушении
A sail so white gleams isolated
amidst the sea's cerulean mist!
What does it seek, this sail ill-fated?
What did it leave behind, sun-kissed?
The waves are roaring, wind is whistling,
the mast is bending with a groan.
Alas! It does not look forgiving,
the boredom rushes him alone.
Beneath it waters azure brighter,
above it - sun's terrenity.
Yet it, rebellious, cries like writer
and does not seek serenity.
Анна Иделевич 28.10.2026 15:28 • Заявить о нарушении