A single sail is bleaching brightly
Upon the waves caressing bland,
What seeks it in a stranger country?
Why did it leave its native strand?
When winds pipe high, load roar the billows
And with a crashing bends the mast,
It does not shun its luckless fortune,
Nor haste to port before the blast.
To-day the sea is clear as azure,
The sun shines gaily, faint the wind--
But it revolting, looks for tempest,
And dreams in storms its peace to find!
The Sail
Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
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Poem topics: peace, sea, sun, wind, single, clear, country, stranger, high, Valentine's Day, fortune, native, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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