Ships would wait for a while and set off for their ways, Still they use to return through whatever the weather. And in halve-a-year’s time I'll be back for some days To be leaving again, to be leaving again, as I gather. People mostly return, except intimate friends, Saving very attractive devoted women. People always come back, but the needed and best. I do not trust to fate, I do not trust to fate; to myself - slighter even. But I’d like to believe that it does not take place - To burn out one’s boats will not be latest fashion. Surely I will come back, all in dreams and in friends, I will, certainly, sing, I will, certainly, sing, - not a false expectation.
© Vyacheslav Chistyakov. Translation, 2016