The song about a stormy petrel
By Maxim Gorky
Alongside the grey-haired sea plain
Wind is gathering the clouds.
Between clouds and the sea plain
There's a proud petrel flying,
As a black flicker of lightning.
Once he is touching the sea wave's edge,
Then is flying up to heavens
As an arrow, and he cries...
The clouds hear joy in his brave shout.
In this scream - the thirst for gale,
Force of anger, flame of passion,
And the certainty of triumph
Hear the clouds in his shout.
Sea gulls moan before the storming,
Moan, rush above the sea plain,
They are ready to a bottom
Hide their horror before gale.
And the loons are also scared,
They can't catch the battle enjoyment,
They are frightened by a thunder.
A silly penguin is shyly hiding
His fat body in the cliffs... Only
The proud petrel hovers bravely
Above the sea, covered with foam.
Darker, darker are the clouds,
Close they have come to sea plain,
And the waves are singing, longing
To the height to meet a thunder.
Thunder's rolling. In a wrath's foam
Waves are moaning, to wind resisting.
Wind embraces the flocks of waves and
In wild spite to cliffs them throws,
Breaking into sprays and splashes
Bulks of the emerald-green waves hard.
The stormy petrel, screaming, hovers,
As the black lightning in heavens,
As an arrow, he is piercing
The grey clouds, with his wing
He is picking up the wave's foam.
Here flies he, as a demon,
The proud, black demon of gale, -
And he is laughing, he is crying...
At the clouds he is laughing,
From the joy he's surely crying!
In thunder's whirl - he's the heedful demon,
He, for long, feels there the tiredness,
He's aware, that the clouds
Can't hide sun forever, though!
Wind is howling... Thunder's rolling...
As a blue flame the clouds're blazing
Above the sea chasm. The sea is picking
The arrows of lightnings and extinguishes
them in depth.As the fiery snakes,
the reflections of lightnings
Writhe in sea and disappear!
Gale! Soon it will be surely gale!
This is the brave petrel flying
proudly among the lightnings,
Above the roaring sea in anger;
this is the prophetic shout:
- Stronger be a coming gale!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem