The old men sit
Chatting in the autumn
Sun, discussing life
And times as old men
have always done.
The boats of Tananger
Habour are too at rest,
For beyond the walls the
Sea is green, angry and
Spittle-topped.
Just as their ancestors
Must have waited,
Both man and craft
Now wait for fairer
Seas and kinder breezes.
All hope for another day.
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