Il Povero Pescatore, Puvis de Chavannes (1881)
The Poor Fishman, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
The river so flat and still like dried paint.
Not sure if what I say is a complaint.
Father you know that I am not a saint,
But help the fish and me to reacquaint.
Today I say that my day shall be long,
Not returning here until the next dawn.
Yet during those hours I will sing your song,
Giving praise and praying that I stay strong.
The fish I pray for not only for me.
I think of my poor weakened family,
Healthy and strong I pray them all to be,
For it is in them my whole life I see.
To Saint Peter the fish You did help send,
It is on Your will that our lives depend.