The smooth oar lifts no spray,
The soft breeze dies away,
There's joy in store today.
The waves a silence binds,
The rowboat softly glides,
The road of mourners winds.
If but a sigh you'd spare!
Did you not hear, or care,
When storms beset me there?
From yearning I was lost,
By gales my heart was tossed,
In mist my dreams were crossed.
The oar slips through the air,
My heart weeps in despair,
Unheeded is my prayer.
Balys Sruoga (1896 - 1947) Lithuania
Translated by Peter Tempest
Source: All Poetry
The soft breeze dies away,
There's joy in store today.
The waves a silence binds,
The rowboat softly glides,
The road of mourners winds.
If but a sigh you'd spare!
Did you not hear, or care,
When storms beset me there?
From yearning I was lost,
By gales my heart was tossed,
In mist my dreams were crossed.
The oar slips through the air,
My heart weeps in despair,
Unheeded is my prayer.
Balys Sruoga (1896 - 1947) Lithuania
Translated by Peter Tempest
Source: All Poetry
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