Question

Rise, brothers, rise, the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free.
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea
No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our
comrades all​

Answer 1

Answer:

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