V
The sabots clatter down the street,
The church bell sounds across the bay,
The brown sails of the fishing fleet
Grow black against the dying day;
While sun and 'peace sink glowingly
Upon the land of Brittany.
The sabots clatter down the street,
The church bell sounds across the bay,
The brown sails of the fishing fleet
Grow black against the dying day;
While sun and 'peace sink glowingly
Upon the land of Brittany.