a silver lake in paradise
waits for my return
and calls to mind a childhood lake
and lessons I would learn
my lake was once a quiet branch
beside the river bed
till providence would block its path
so quiet waters spread
reflected there the fishermen
had heard the mandate well
to test the crystal waters store
and till the gentle swell
just as the farmer tends the land
of Eden's fertile field
so also plows the fisherman
to reap an ample yield
without the waters we would die
they sanctify the earth
to care and feed and teach us well
the lesson of rebirth
and having been a fisherman
I hope that I have earned
that silver lake in paradise
that waits for my return
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem