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When I was a little lad, with folly on my lips,
Fain was I for journeying all the seas in ships,
But I'm weary of the sea wind, weary of the foam,
And the little stars of Duna call me home.

When I was a young man, before my beard was grey,
All to seas and islands I gave my heart away.
Now across the southern swell, every dawn I hear
The little streams of Duna running clear.

As sung by Gordon Bok on "A Tune for November" Folk-Legacy recording.
filename[ DUNASTRM

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