An old widow does live nearby,
And when the weather does permit,
We do go fishing, she and I.
Waiting for her here now I sit.
Looks like another lovely day,
Real calm and peaceful be the lake.
I'm guessing my friend's on her way,
The next going fishing to take.
For fishing, she's got quite a knack,
Lots of practice, now she's alone.
She always throws her caught fish back,
So she doesn't have to debone.
Sunrise, and soon we two will float,
My old friend in her fishing boat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem