Poem By Alexander Pushkin / Copyright©️DenizM. We were all there in the boat; Some of us tightening sail, Some at the heave and haul Of the oars, vessel and load Deep surging, our passage silent, The helmsman buoyed at the helm. And I, taking all for granted, Sang to the sailors. A wind Struck then, a boiling maelstrom. Helmsman and sailors perished. Only I, still singing, washed Ashore by the swell, sing on, Safe and sound on a rock-shelf Where my clothes dry in the sun.
