Winds blow waves into silver caps, We fishermen are busy folk; Our masts and nets a pattern form, As boats put out to sea. Each haul of fish means clothes and food, We sail as the full moon shines;...
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Winds blow waves into silver caps, We fishermen are busy folk; Our masts and nets a pattern form, As boats put out to sea. Each haul of fish means clothes and food, We sail as the full moon shines;...