Children of the Fog leave harbour, Leave. For a long time? Where? - Suddenly has quietly sung Jurkovsky on motive of a
familiar lyrical song.
- And, it something new! - Dauge has quickened. And further? - You will Echo? - Has asked Jurkovsky a little confusedly.
- Certainly! Give! Jurkovsky has repeated, and Dauge an awful voice подхватил:Уходят from harbour Children of the Fog,
Leave. For a long time? Where? You hear, how the seagull sobs and cries, the Lead ripple ploughing, - Disappear strict
black machtyza a grey veil of a rain...
In a wind at dawn, in the rainy sea Where white foam rages, Quiet people in not clear zoriuvodjat the ships, wait for Them
storm hours at a steering wheel, the Surf at unknown rocks, And a mad roar of the highest wave, And reeves a hungry grin,
Both hot nights, and damp networks, And a rustle of dry sails, And tender warm, kissing veterdalekih coastal woods.
They are waited for by coast of four oceans, another's water There splashes...
Children of the Fog leave harbour...
Will return not soon... When? "Will return not soon... When?" - has thoughtfully repeated Dauge. - the Good fellow, Volodja,
well...
Have poured and have drunk on one. Jurkovsky, having become gloomy, has inclined on hands beautiful, hardly a grey-
haired head. Ermakov about something tensely thought, every minute mechanically looking at hours. Bykovu it became
absolutely sad, it has leant back on a seat back, has closed eyes. In memory there were darlings to the heart, terribly far
images - the dark blue deep sky, an easy tender warm breeze, white scraps of clouds in a dark shivering puddle... The
Earth...
- Will suffice, Ioganych, - was distributed a voice Jurkovsky.
Bulls has lifted eyelids. Dauge poured in a glass. Its hands shivered, amber drops, cheerfully sparkling in electric light, drop
on a napkin, running up on it small colour balls.
- It not to me, - Ioganych, - and not to you has strictly told...
It was pulled through zakuski: - Bitterns, Bogdan... Well, I know that you do not suffer, but for the sake of me - should!
Jurkovsky has started back. Holding a glass in an outstretched arm, Dauge spoke ubezhdajushche: - In the Smoky sea all of
us equally will not start up. Ergo - the campaign is ended. For the sake of it absolutely it is necessary to drink...