Treasure Island

Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky

(February 9 1783 – April 24 1852 / Mishenskoe, Tula Oblast)

The Boatman

Driven by misfortune's whirlwind,
Having neither oar nor rudder,
By a storm my bark was driven
Out upon the boundless sea.
'midst black clouds a small star sparkled;
'Don't conceal yourself!' I cried;
But it disappeared, unheeding;
And my anchor was lost, too.

All was clothed in gloomy darkness;
Great swells heaved all round;
In the darkness yawned the depths
I was hemmed in by cliffs.
'There's no hope for my salvation!'
I bemoaned, with heavy spirit…
Madman! Providence
Was your secret helmsman.

With a hand invisible,
'midst the roaring waves,
Through the gloomy, veiled depths
Past the terrifying cliffs,
My all-powerful savior guided me.
Then-all's quiet ! gloom has vanished;
I behold a paradisical realm…
Three celestial angels.

Providence - O, my protector!
My dejected groaning ceases;
On my knees, in exaltation,
On their image I did gaze.
Who could sing their charm?
Or their power o'er the soul?
All around them holy innocence
And an aura divine.

A delight as yet untasted -
Live and breathe for them;
Take into my soul and heart
All their words and glances sweet.
O fate! I've but one desire:
Let them sample every blessing;
Vouchsafe them delight - me suffering;
Only let me die before they do.

Плове ;ц

Вихрk 7;м бедстви я гонимый ,
Без кормила и весла,
В океан неисход имый
Бу 088;я челн мой занесла .
В тучах звездоч ка светила сь;
'Не скрывай ся!' - я взывал;
&# 1053;епрекл&# 1086;нная сокрыла сь;
Якор&# 1100; был - и тот пропал.
Все оделось черной мглою:
В&# 1089;колыха&# 1083;ися валы;
Бе&# 1079;дны в мраке предо мною;
Вк&# 1088;уг ужасные скалы.
'Н& #1077;т надежды на спасень е!' -
Я роптал, уныв душой...
О безумец! Провиде нье
Был 086; тайный кормщик твой.

Нk 7;видимоn 2; рукою,
С&# 1082;возь ревущие валы,
Ск&# 1074;озь одеты бездны мглою
И грозящи е скалы,
М&# 1086;щный вел меня храните ль.
Вдру&# 1075; - все тихо! мрак исчез;
В&# 1080;жу райскую обитель ...
В ней трех ангелов небес.

i 4; спасите ль - провиде нье!
Ско&# 1088;бный ропот мой утих;
На коленах, в восхище нье,
Я смотрю на образ их.
О! кто прелест ь их опишет?
&# 1050;то их силу над душой?
В&# 1089;е окрест их небом дышит
И невинно стью святой.
Неиспыm 0;анная радость -
Ими жить, для них дышать;
&# 1048;х речей, их взоров сладост ь
В душу, в сердце принима ть.
О судьба! одно желанье :
Дай все блага им вкусить ;
Пусть им радость - мне страдан ье;
Но... не дай их пережит ь.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Edited: Thursday, February 09, 2012

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