The ships will go And lay on their course,
But they will come back Through bad weather...
It won’t even be A half-year -
And I will appear In order to leave again For a half-year.
Everyone comes back, Except for the best of friends,
Except for the most favorite And devoted of women.
Everyone comes back, Except for those whom are needed the most.
I do not believe in fate, While I believe in myself even less.
But I would sure like to Think,
That it is not so That burning ships Will soon go out of Style.
I will certainly return Both within my friends, and within dreams...
I will certainly sing - And it won’t even be A half-year.