Quotes from Lermontov M.

In pale blue fog, a far, white sailboat Through mist and sea, sails all alone What lures him to distant countries? What drives him out, so far from home? The waves are mad, the wind is whistling Mast, creaking, moans without cease Alas, not happiness it's seeking And not from happiness it flees Beneath, the azure current flows Above, the golden sunlight streaks But restlessly, it prays for storms As if in storms it may find peace