On that day sailors said to the captain “Hey, man!”
And the ship’s boy would shout at the skipper;
And unleashing their hands and unbandaging bands,
On the shrouds my sailors were skipping.

All went crazy in order
to gain their ends,
Reaching phantoms of shores,
reaching blankets of lands,

Those lands of our dreams, of our slumbers -
Of Magellan and of Columbus!

As for me I will not
See the shore or the land:
At the speed of ten knots
Boy, so fast did I strand!

But the rest - they are bound
To the glorious aim...
Yes - for running aground
I myself am to blame.

And they left me behind, all my brothers, my fleet;
Those more sensitive - swallowed a tear,
That great voyage the Armada just had to complete,
And no ship was allowed to veer.

Cursing bad luck, the weather,
The treacherous sea,
All my shipmates together
Walked out on me.

They saluted me twice with a cannon -
From Columbus and from Magellan!

I drink foam, when hot -
Water is way too low,
And my starboard and port -
Off the water they glow.

They are dirty, of course,
They, of course, are unclean;
All my wounds, all my sores
Can be easily seen.

There’s a hole in my port - it was wrought by a shot,
And my starboard is “scarboard” - look here:
Marks and tracks on my decks from the battles we fought,
And my spine wrecked by some buccaneer.

My serrated old keel -
Boy, was it brought to grief!
All my belly is peeled -
It was ripped by a reef!

I’m decaying, forlorn and forgotten -
Even salty things may become rotten!

Winds my blood suck and drink
Through so many a chink,
Winds give me pain and kink,
I am quite on the blink.

I’m exposed to them
Nights and days, nights and days...
Into my soul and stem
Winds are hammering nails.

Winds behave like the rakes, evil, cheeky and bold,
They mess everything up, play the goat;
Wish they’d choke with the wine that I keep in my hold,
Or, rampaging, would set me afloat.

Of this chance I’m convinced -
That’s a desperate creed!
But it’s not evil winds
That at present I need;

My sails droop like the breasts of a slattern,
And my mast looks a creaky, thin batten.

But my time I will bide -
The eighth wonder must come,
When a merciful tide
Washes off all the scum.

Dew will fall on my deck -
It will wash off the spell;
Like the veins on the neck
Will my sails promptly swell!

I’ll rush after my fleet, catch them and - I’ll forgive
The Armada that badly remembers;
I hold them no grudge, I’ll be glad to receive
Back aboard all my former crew members.

But they don’t want to let
Me inside their ranks.
Shut your mouth, corvette,
Don’t sting me with your pranks!

I’m your twin, don’t you see?
I’ve escaped from the blight,
We are not short of sea,
Frigate, take to the right!

Won’t you lend me a hand?
Do you mean I must go?
If I was on the strand -
Then I’m out of the row?!

Let me feel here at ease -
Aren’t we ships, aren’t we friends?
We are not short of seas
We are not short of lands!

Those lands of our dreams, of our slumbers -
Of Magellan and of Columbus.