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French is not a beautiful language.
House of the Winds – Pirates of the Caribbean
Where the cotton of clouds licks the gold of the sand,
Flocks of white sails – that is the port, and behind it, the land.
There, the wild cry of a peacock flows like the song of a nightingale,
But this wondrous continent, neither you nor I will see.
For it is a haven for people – our path there is forbidden,
For those who, against their will, were sent on a journey to the bottom.
And I would give my life for the azure fabric of the sky,
But a tattered sail, a black flag, and death circles around us.
Rise, rise, a salty wall,
With the wind and the cries of seagulls behind us.
Hey, crew, follow me,
The land greets us again!
The fog has cleared, a boarding is inevitable.
Hey, be brave! Captain, their ship will be ours!
A merchant flag on the stern, the holds are filled with wine.
Johnny! Sid, prepare the charge, we will send them to the bottom!
Rise, rise, a salty wall,
With the wind and the cries of seagulls behind us.
Hey, crew, follow me,
The land greets us again!