In the azure naval mist!
What does it seek in t’ land of danger,
What was it left in t’ land of his.
The waves are playing, wind is torturing,
The mast is bending, squeaking yet…
In vain, it doesn’t look for fortune,
And not from happiness it left.
Above the stream of light azure
Beneath the golden ray of Sun…
He’s mutinous and asking sure
For storms but not a quiet one.