The lonely sail is white

the lonely sail is white
in the fog of the sea blue
What is he looking for in a distant country
that he threw at the edge of his native land?

The waves are playing, the wind is whistling
And the mast bends and creaks
Alas! He does not seek happiness,
And not from happiness he runs

Under it a jet of azure blue.
Above him is the golden ray of the sun
And he, the rebellious, asks for a storm, as if there was peace in the storm ...

Lermontov M. Y.