The sailors

Upon the blue, deep water

We shall travel,

Encircling the world

With a silver wake.

From the Sunda Islands,

From India of the burning sky,

As far as the frozen pole!

We think of the land

Which we always flee,

Of our aging mother,

Of our young loves.

But the easy wave

With its sweet refrain,

Lulls our grief to sleep!

Sublime existence,

Rocking in our nest.

We live upon the abyss,

On the breast of the infinite,

Grazing the crests of the waves.

In the great blue desert

We go with God!