Russky Island Bridge over the Eastern Bosporus in Vladivostok (Russia) painted by Roman Bayánov

 I'm torn apart, I'm losing my heart,

I'm squeezing a lucky ticket to there,

Where I was hurrying so much from...

Perhaps, (I) stumbled...

Well, what should I change?

I am so sorry, my love,

I definitely know, (that I) won't forget you

I am so sorry and at sunrise

I'll fly Moscow-Vladivostok

From the song Moscow-Vladivostok

Yulia Savicheva

Bridge to the Petit Minou Lighthouse in Plouzane, Finistère (France)

Parmi les noirs brisants où le flot tourbillonne,
Le phare vers la nue élève sa colonne.
Pilier de blocs massifs qu'unit un dur ciment,
Il surgit, solitaire, ainsi qu'un monument.
Des vagues, à ses pieds, la fureur se déchaîne :
On dirait que la mer assiège de sa haine
Cette tour qui, montrant le péril aux vaisseaux,
La frustre d'un butin convoité par ses eaux.
Le soir vient, l'horizon s'efface dans la brume :
Sur la tour, aussitôt, le fanal se rallume ;
Avant même qu'au ciel une étoile ait relui,
Un astre éclaire l'onde,- et cet astre, c'est lui !...
Foyer de vifs rayons dont la lueur éclate,
Il enflamme les airs d'une teinte écarlate ;
Et, sur l'Océan noir son reflet projeté
Semble un chemin de feu par la houle agité.

Le phare

Poem byJoseph Autran

Medieval bridge between the hermitage of Santa Ana and the castle of Castro Urdiales, Cantabria (Spain)

It existed in Cantabria a beautiful girl who, against the advice of her mother, used to gather shellfish in the most dangerous cliffs of Castro Urdiales while singing with the rolling waves of the sea. Her mother tired of their disobedience and concerned about their welfare came to curse like this: So the God of Heaven allows you to become a fish !. It seems that her prayer was heard and this girl was transformed into a woman with long shiny fishtail, which was called The Little Mermaid of Castro.

Legend of Castro Urdiales

Skye Bridge over Loch Alsh between the Isle of Skye and the island of Eilean Bán, in Scotland (United Kingdom)

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,

Say, could that lad be I?

Merry of soul he sailed on a day

Over the sea to Skye.

Mull was astern, Rùm on the port,

Eigg on the starboard bow;

Glory of youth glowed in his soul;

Where is that glory now?

Poem by
 Robert Louis Stevenson