by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)
Translation © by Salvador Pila

Sail on, sail on
Language: English 
Our translations:  CAT CHI FRE
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark,
Wherever blows the welcome wind;
It cannot lead to scenes more dark,
More sad than those we leave behind.
Each smiling billow seems to say
"Though death beneath our surface be,
Less cold we are, less false than they,
Whose smiling wrecked thy hopes and thee."

Sail on, sail on, through endless space,
Through calm, through tempest, stop no more;
The stormiest sea's a resting-place
To him who leaves such hearts on shore.
Or, if some desert land we meet,
Where never yet false-hearted men
Profaned a world, that else were sweet,
Then rest thee, bark, but not till then.

Air -- The Humming of the Ban.

Text Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Navega, navega", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • CHI Chinese (中文) [singable] (Dr Huaixing Wang) , "扬帆，扬帆", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Vogue, vogue", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2003-10-13
Line count: 16
Word count: 107

Navega, navega
Language: Catalan (Català)  after the English 
Navega, navega, tu, barca audaç,
arreu on bufa el vent favorable;
ell no ens pot conduir a llocs més ombrius,
més tristos que els que hem deixat enrere.
Cada onada que passa sembla dir:
“Per bé que la mort pot ésser sota la nostra sobrefaç,
som menys freds, menys falsos que aquells
que, somrient, et destruïren a tu i les teves esperances.”

Navega, navega, a través de l’espai sense fi,
a través de la calma, a través de la tempesta, no t’aturis mai;
el mar més tempestuós és un lloc de repòs
per a qui ha deixat aitals cors a la costa.
Però si trobem algun país desert,
on mai encara homes de cor maligne
hagin profanat una terra, que altrament era dolça,
llavors atura’t, barca, però no abans.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to Catalan (Català) copyright © 2024 by Salvador Pila, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
    Contact: 

Based on:

 

This text was added to the website: 2024-09-28
Line count: 16
Word count: 129