MirachRavaia

Wind is blowing in the cypresses Sky is clear as far as the eye sees Wind is blowing Sea is flowing And the olive grooves are growing In the warm and sweetly smelling breeze Gulls are crying at ships coming home Shores are dressed in white lace of sea-foam Gulls are crying Nets are drying And the fishermen are trying To sell their catch where the people roam Stars are gleaming in the evening sky In the warm air moths flutter and fly Stars are gleaming Children dreaming In the taverns wine is streaming Served with honey cake and goat cheese pie Lutes are singing in the fragrant air Artists, poets, actors are all there Lutes are singing Dancers swinging And the citar strings are ringing As theatres lure you in with flair