A lot of us were on the bark: <br />Some framed a sail for windy weather, <br />The others strongly and together <br />Moved oars. In silence sunk, <br />Keeping a rudder, strong and clever, <br />The skipper drove the heavy skiff; <br />And I -- with careless belief -- <br />I sang for sailors... . But the stiff <br />Whirl smashed at once the waters' favor... <br />All dead -- the captain and his guard! -- <br />But I, the enigmatic bard, <br />Was thrown to the shore alone. <br />I sing the former anthems, yet, <br />And dry my mantle, torn and wet, <br />In beams of sun under a stone.<br /><br />Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/arion/
