We catch lobster , herring and mackerel ;
We sell it at the wharf , we don’t do much .
Seaweed smells good , also manure ,
When we spread it on the field ;
Early morning ,
Vapors enlighten us …
We feel like singing and jigging .
Working at the mine to supply the family ,
Or in the forest …
Black flies eating our skin .
But the sweat that flows ,
Will bring bread on the board .
While the Acadian country ,
Is the most beautiful .
I would like to return ,
For all the gold in the world ;
But English swallows many ,
And Acadia grows in our heart .
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