PoemThe season of ships is here, The west wind and the swallows; Flowers in the fields appear, And the ocean of hills and hollows Has calmed its waves and is clear. Free that anchor and chain! Set your full canvas flying, O men in the harbor lane: It is I, Pirapus crying. Sail out on your trades again!Leonidas of TarentumSpring on the Coast · 200 BC★ 1.9
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