When by the rhymes and poems I get bored, When of a written line I canít make any sense I desperately squeeze the finger-board And sing about sailors to my friends. In spite of all the cares that there may be, And though Iíve got so many things to do on land Sailors, take me with you, out to the sea On board the ship Iíll be a helping hand. All kinds of creatures swim about the sea, And none of them impedes you in the way, Whereas on land each passerby you see Will push you, step on you and run away. In spite of all my cares that here at home may be, Regardless of the things I have to do on land; Take me to the sea, send out a boat for me, On board the ship Iíll be a helping hand. The world is not held up by whales or boats, You know itís not for company of three. You canít take liberties in alien ports; But I donít do it in my own, nor at sea.        
© Alec Vagapov. Translation, 1999