Long and winding road
In the mist of the blue sea!..
What he seeks in the distant country?
That he threw in the land of their own?..
Play a wave - the wind whistles,
And the mast bends skrypit ...
Alas! He is not looking for happiness
And not from happiness runs!
Under him the jet lighter blue,
Above it a golden ray of sunshine ...
And he, rebellious, asks the storm,
As if in storms there is peace!