The Fishing Weather of Love

O yes, that is fine day For fishing in mountain river When weather is bad, And raining from early gray dawn. When world look so pity and doleful Maybe for artists and poets But so nice for big and hefty fishes. They are swimming out from deep and cold bottoms and hidden caves to surface collecting on shallows, sometimes one by one splashing and jumping out watercourse close to edge with clear joys and playing ecstasy as if that silver living marvel suddenly felt and predicted the next Great Flood, or time of Paradise when all creatures will coexisted friendly, peacefully and intermixed Lullabying with one unimaginable divine future. So its seems that fishes have tryed set on the benches and wings of some awesome waterwheel, more grandeur than London’s or Singaporean’s Eyes, appearing airily for the vision of greatest waterfall between joining Heaven and Earth, Seas and Skys in rainy day. The skillful fishermen Have good sense and flyer For such days and luckiest instant. They early wake up and gone to river And capture lot of precious fishes, Plying so naively for own hopes, dreams and ruptures. Alas, for fishes But good for intrinsic and great love That also has such marvelous days When you captured your reward, If you early wake up and prepare himself for catching precious golden Swimming up from deep and waste waters.