Those many coloured fishing boats of dawn

The many coloured fishing boats at dawn
Floated on the cold and Northern sea
They sailed beneath  the  rising sun, adorned

The empty beach looked grave as if forlorn
Yet soon  the  boats would   decorate it free
Those many coloured fishing boats of dawn

These boats were fishing when I was newborn
And rings were  growing in the   churchyard’s trees
Boats sailed beneath  the  rising sun, adorned

I stood beside the window filled with joy.
The image of the boats made me well pleased.
Those many coloured fishing boats of dawn

From sacred moments  images will  form
To help us with our sorrow  when bereaved
We too shall sail beneath  the  sun divine

Unlike  our gold and  jewels none can steal
Our inner wealth, the hand  that turns the wheel
The many coloured fishing boats at dawn
Sailed beneath  the  rising sun, adorned