Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light, <br />The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night. <br />Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free, <br />To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea! <br /> <br />No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call, <br />The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all. <br />What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives? <br />He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives. <br /> <br />Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove, <br />And sweet are the sands at the full o' the moon with the sound of the voices we love; <br />But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild foam's glee; <br />Row, brothers, row to the edge of the verge, where the low sky mates with the sea.<br /><br />Sarojini Naidu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-coromandel-fishers/
