< Pushkin > < Alexander Pushkin >
goodbye, free element! Farewell to you, unharnessed Ocean!
for the last time, in front of my eyes, No longer will you roll at me
your blue waves are rolling, and your azure wells in endless motion
your proud beauty is shining spectacularly. ORGLEAM IN TRANQUIL MASTERY.
Like a friend's melancholy whisper, A Comrade's broken words on leaving,
Like a farewell greeting, His hair of parting at the door:
For the last time, I listened to your shout of your chant of luring, chant of grieving
and your gloomy complaints. Will murmurmur in my ears no more.
The country I yearn for with all my heart, the sea! Oh, homeland of my spirit's choosing!
how often, on your shore, How often on your banks at large
I wander quietly and lost, I wanted to mute and dimly musing,
thinking hard about my cherished wish. Fraught with a sacred, troubling charge!
Ah, how I would love to hear your echo,
the dumb voice, the song of the abyss, the Primal Chasm's muffled voice,
I love to hear your silence at dusk, the Primal Chasm's muffled voice,
and your wayward temper! And in your sudden, reckless bounding!
the fisherman's tiny sail with the fisher's lowy canvas slides,
your moody protection by your capricious favored shelter,
boldly slipped between two teeth, Unfounded down your breakers' lips:
But if you get rough, you can't overcome it, yet by your Titan Romps have a welted red
Groups of fishing boats will be wiped out. And founded journeys of mastered ships.
Up to now, I still can't leave alas, dead me from weighing
This bored solidified stone shore, My anchor off the cloddish shore,
I haven't embraced you warmly, sea! Exultantly your realm surveying,
didn't let the waves of my poetry and by your driving ridges laying
run away with your ridge! My poet's course forevermore.
You are expecting, calling ... but I am tied, you waited, called ... I was in irons,
My heart wants to break free in vain, And vainly did my soul rebel,
I was fascinated by stronger feelings, so I stayed on the shore ... by passion's overpowering spell.
What is there to cherish? Where is this sorry now? What fashion
can make me embark on an open path? Would now my carefree sails be spread?
in your desolation, there is only one thing, to one long goal in all your vastness
, which may even excite my heart. My spirit might have gladly sped.
A cliff, a glorious grave ... One lonely cliff, the tomb of glory ...
There, Great memories
There Chilling Slumber Fellopon have sunk in a cold dream. The Ghost of Mankind's Proudest Story:
Ah, Napoleon put it out there. There breathed his last Napoleon.
He has gone to sleep in misery. There rest for suffering he bartered;
followed by him, another genius, and, gale-born in his wake, there streams
passed in front of us like a storm, Another kingly spirit martyred,
ah, another master of our hearts. Another regent of our dreams.
He went and made freedom in tears! He passed, and left to freedom Mourning,
He left his laurel crown to the world. His laurels to eternality.
Make a noise, and surge for the sinister weather, Arise, Roar out in storm warning:
Oh, the sea! He used to be in song for you. He was your own true bard, oh Sea!
He is molded by your essence, his soul was by your spirit haunted,
O sea, he is a reflection of your image; In your own image was he framed:
He is as deep, powerful and gloomy as you, like you, innocent, unproven
He is as stubborn as you. Like you noctural unknown.
The world is empty ... Oh, ocean, bereft the world ... Where by your power,
Where can you take me now? Oh Sea would you now carry me?
everywhere, people's fate is the same: life offers everywhere one dower:
where there is happiness, there must be education on any glitter of bliss there
or tyrants are very closely guarded. Enlightenment or tyranni.
goodbye, sea! Your spectacular beauty Farewell then, Sea! Henceforth in wonder
will never be forgotten by me; Your regal grace will I rever;
I will listen to long will your muffled twilit thunder for a long time
your rumbling at dusk. Revere within my ear.
My heart is full of you, and I'm going to put to Woods and silent wildness
your rocks, your bay, will I translate your potspells,
your light and shadow, the chatter of your waves, your cliffs, your coves, your shining tresses,
to the forest, to the silent wasteland. Your shadows and your murmurous swells.