The Sail Poem by Dave Bennett

The Sail



A sail, alone, on billowed waves,
Is flashing white through fog’s blue sea!
Who knows what distant lands it craves?
What made it leave its own country?

The waves are playing, wind is squeaking,
The mast is groaning at the nape…
But happiness the sail’s not seeking,
Nor would it happiness escape...

Below, a bright blue stream is endless,
Above, gold rays of sun abound,
But it, rebellious, asks for tempests,
As if in tempests, peace were found.

-translation Dave Bennett

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Translating classical Russian poetry while maintaining the original meaning, rhyme, and meter is my favorite hobby.

The Sail (Парус)
Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov (1832)
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