Mikhail Lermontov

“ The whistling breeze the mast is bending,
⁠The playful waves around him rise.
Ah! not for happiness he searches,
⁠And not from happiness he flies.
The sun is bright as gold above him,
⁠Light spray below, a snowy fleece;
But he, rebellious, seeks the tempest,
⁠As though the storms could bring him peace!
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”

“ Why is it that I cannot say,
"Stars, you're as bright as my own joy supreme?"
⁠"Why are you joyless?"
⁠Kind men will ask me.
⁠Kind men, I'm joyless
Because stars and heavens
Are stars and heavens, while I'm but a man. ”

“ In life's dark moments when with care
⁠And grief my heart is sore,
The accents of a wondrous prayer
⁠I whisper o'er and o'er.
They bring a blessing with each tone,
⁠Those living words of light,
And breathe a charm before unknown,
⁠A holy, calm delight. ”