The Fisher

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Title:     The Fisher
Author: George Borrow [More Titles by Borrow]

The fisherman saddleth his good winged horse,
To be on the deep seems to him his best course.

Against the white strand loud and hoarse the wave breaks,
And towards the strand now the fisherman makes.

And up when the fisher his fishing-line drew,
A fine golden fish on the hook met his view.

Then he laughed in his beard: "I've of fish seen a store,
But ne'er one with golden cloth kirtle before.

"If I a gold piece for each gold-scale possess'd,
With poverty I should no more be distrest."

With its tail the fish 'gan the bench furious to smite,
And a strange dance it seemed to the fisherman's sight.

"Thou wealthy man, be not, I pray thee, so gay,
A much quieter part a poor fisher should play."

The golden fish heard every word as it lay,
Began straight to talk and discourse in this way:-

"I'm full as rich, fisherman, as thou art poor,
And soon for thee happiness I will procure.

"Straight cast me again in the ocean my home,
And a well-doing man thou, I swear, shalt become.

"The Queen of the ocean my mother is, know,
She linen and bolsters on thee shall bestow.

"My father is King in the depths of the sea,
And healthy and strong he shall cause thee to be.

"My lover he sorrows for me in the brine,
My golden cloth kirtle shall also be thine."

"For the sovereign of fishes I care not a straw,
On myself, if I did, I but laughter should draw.

"For thy mother's fine cushions I care little more,
My own Queen could make better ware any hour.

"But if thou to a wooer thy troth didst allot,
The repose of two lovers destroy I will not."

The trembling gold fish in the water placed he:
"From such wretched captures the Lord preserve me!

"If to-morrow a like one upon my hook bite,
I shall perish of hunger, poor miserable wight."

He the rest of the day sat at home by his hearth
And spake not a word that repeating is worth.

He early next morn in his boat his seat took,
And straightway adjusted a bait to his hook.

And soon as he'd overboard cast the fish-line,
The float it descended deep under the brine.

Then he laughed in his beard, and with bitterness said:
"A catch of another gold fish I have made!"

The thin lengthy line he up-drew half unwilling,
And, behold! there upon the hook hung a gold shilling.

And I can forsooth and for certainty say,
That he for delight had no rest the whole day.

But as oft as the line he up-drew from the tide,
Upon the hook never a fish he descried.

For whene'er for the fish he upon the hook sought,
He found that a shilling of gold he had caught.

[The end]
George Borrow's Poem: The Fisher

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