The Pirate song

The breeze fair aft, all sails on high,
Ten guns on each side mounted seen,
She does not cut the sea, but fly,
A swiftly sailing brigantine;
A pirate bark, the "Bloff" named,
For her surpassing boldness famed,
On every sea well-known and shore,
From side to side their boundaries o'er.
The moon in streaks the waves illumes
Hoarse groans the wind the rigging through;
In gentle motion raised assumes
The sea a silvery shade with blue;
Whilst singing gaily on the poop
The pirates together, in a group,
See mainland here, there Europe lies,
And Portugal in the front arises.


J. Espronceda, Canción del Pirata

(Versão inglesa, adaptada pelo Pirata Culto)