Today I fished at Broken Bridge.
I threw a mosquito on the water
and waited for a Grayling to tear the surface
and impale itself on a steel barb.
But the Grayling were at prayer,
a sacrament of silence, thank you Lord,
just what I need.
My mosquito will dance on the water another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'' the Grayling were at prayer.. '' :) nice, really nice..