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Rolled quiet the dark on waters deep
where drifts a dhow off Mozambique.
To host the breeze when evening done,
to coast the night, to wander on.
Of grey a mood, a clouding moon;
a lateen sail in eerie bloom.
Into the dark where reasons yield
to that which is yet unrevealed.
A dreamer he who sails the night,
knows not the ocean's turn of might.
For he who of the dark ignores
will lose the light from welcome shores.
Behold, beware when stars be dimmed,
be omens them, be them who sinned.
Of tempers cowled in rile and reek,
upwelling wrath from fathoms deep.
'Twas done and spun without debate,
a fierce a squall, so sought his fate.
Be damned, be gone, 'twas written, aye,
when tempt ye death, ’tis surely nigh.
Who yearns in hope, who waits ashore,
be not this wait for ever more.
Pray God, the dawn should see him home,
let not his fate be wept unknown.
Rung out the night to day, anew,
unfurled the sea as sky is blue.
Yet rumours stirred the dawn's mystique,
an empty dhow off Mozambique.
where drifts a dhow off Mozambique.
To host the breeze when evening done,
to coast the night, to wander on.
Of grey a mood, a clouding moon;
a lateen sail in eerie bloom.
Into the dark where reasons yield
to that which is yet unrevealed.
A dreamer he who sails the night,
knows not the ocean's turn of might.
For he who of the dark ignores
will lose the light from welcome shores.
Behold, beware when stars be dimmed,
be omens them, be them who sinned.
Of tempers cowled in rile and reek,
upwelling wrath from fathoms deep.
'Twas done and spun without debate,
a fierce a squall, so sought his fate.
Be damned, be gone, 'twas written, aye,
when tempt ye death, ’tis surely nigh.
Who yearns in hope, who waits ashore,
be not this wait for ever more.
Pray God, the dawn should see him home,
let not his fate be wept unknown.
Rung out the night to day, anew,
unfurled the sea as sky is blue.
Yet rumours stirred the dawn's mystique,
an empty dhow off Mozambique.
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