Look at the captain's muscles,
made of plastic and methane,
look at him as the night falls,
so much blood in his veins.
The captain is never afraid,
he stands tall on the quarterdeck smoking his pipe
in this cool, dark dawn
that looks a little like life.
Also, the captain, if he wants to, pulls the anchor from his trousers
and throws it at the waves, and calls loudly
when he needs someone or something
there's always someone answering his calls.
Captain, well, I didn't want to tell you,
but there's a woman in white in the middle of the sea
so big, bathed in starlight,
no one gets tired of looking at her.
This ship can travel at 2000 knots
among the tropical ice
and has a million-horsepower engine,
[but] horses with wings instead of hooves.
The ship is lightning, torpedo, fuse,
sparkling beauty, phosphorus, phantasy,
steel molecules, piston, anger,
blitzkrieg and poetry.
In this electric, fast night,
in this 20th century cross,
the future is a flaming cannonball
and we are almost reaching it.
And the captain told the deckhand:
"Young man, I can't see anything,
there's just a bit of fog that indicates a sunny day,
Let's go forward without worries."