Dot white sea-gulls
The ship floats apt to bear up round,
our crew of nine, lace on bonnets,
the Mistral conds the ship abound,
arcane new shores lay to astound,
and nine sea nymphs from ocean depths,
we hope to find new views of breadth,
and Mistral blows to dreams confound
the sails distend with hopes well set.
Dot white sea-gulls peculiar circle,
foretelling that the land is near,
the crew starts boisterous to hurtle,
laughingly sing as scents nice herb'l,
affect our senses and cheers peart,
resplendent maids on sunshine vern'l,
of years before in blooms and kirtles,
predestined om'ns are commandeers,
the nymphs invite amid the myrtles.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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