My country
Around is water and not far away from sea
a fishing trade country is the village i lived
It was dawning, clear, gentle breeze, sunny
Young and strong youths go boating to fishing

The little boad as swift horses, surfing on the waves and sail forward
spead their oars out, hurriedly crossing the ocean waves tremendous
sails filled out as intrepid soul fisher
Strainings bodys white vast receiving wind

The following day, noisiely in the home port
everywhere villlagers hurried
being grateful the sea God , welcome brimful boats
tasty and freh fishs silvery

Fishers tawny with skin sunburnt
Their bodys smelling subtly the odour sea´s
Boats sleep quiet and tired on land
Its seem imbibing into their wood-fibre the taste salty

Although awy from home now, engrave in my memory
Blue water, silvery fishs, white sails ....
A boats shunts suddenly in the way sea´s
I fell missing deeply the smell salty .