They ring the sea bells in the harbor
for the sailors there.
Now come the dancing village girls
with flowers in their hair.
They look so lovely in the sun,
in gowns of green and blue,
to match the mighty ocean’s blush,
and fetch a husband too.
The people clap and cry and cheer
as toward the waves they go,
A sacrifice of maidens come
to join the men below.
The echoes of the knells ring out
across the dancing waves.
The sailors wait impatiently
beside their silted graves.
The singing of the maidens now goes silent
in the surf,
The curse is spared again for those who stand
on muddy turf.
The only note that’s ringing now,
a lonely seagull’s call.
That binds the briny couples to the stones
beneath the squall.
They ring the seabells in the harbor
for the sailors there.
Now come the drifting village maids
with seaweed in their hair.
Beyond Panic 