The bracing wind after oar sweat!
The lift of prow over sea swell!
The sight of purple unfurling!
The bronze laugh of our captain!
I have seen the doves of Byblus
daring drafts over Nahr Ibrahim…
but we are brothers of the eagle
whose flight is beyond all others!
We soar with a straining square sail,
with two men at the longblade stern.
Torsos twisting, teeth gnashing
to keep away from deadly rocks.
Jether and Zophah have godly arms.
Who else knows of these things?
Who else would throw care to wind?
Do lovers of land think they'll live forever?
No words are worthy to sing of hull splash,
salt spray, and the pure joy of speed!
One must live through the experience.
Running, the moment lasts forever.
Gull cry above is the way that we feel.