General

The fisherman all his days loved the strings of light that waved upon the ocean top, that came as music for his eyes, a form of silent poetry.

General

The fisherman with soul of sacred brine, bows in greeting to his sister, his sea.

General

The fisherman come dawn's bright day sits gaily upon the pier.

General

Upon sunrise, upon blue-blushing of ocean waves, the fisherman is a-ready once more.

General

Our fishermen set sail into the rise of the sun, into the new gold light of day, upon the bonny tide.