We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe: Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go. Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills; Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero: We are buoyant because of our bags, Being many, each fish is a hero. We care not what is it, this life That we follow, this phantom unknown: To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant, -- So swim away, making a foam. This strange looking thing by our side, Not for safety, around it we flee: -- Its shadow's so shady, that's all, -- We only swim under its lee. And as for the eels there above, And as for the fowls in the air, We care not for them nor their ways, As we cheerily glide afar! We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe: Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 11. HAMBURG by SARA TEASDALE A PHONECALL FROM FRANK O'HARA by ANNE WALDMAN THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE PRECIOUS WORDS by EMILY DICKINSON THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW (SEPTEMBER 25, 1857) by ROBERT TRAILL SPENCE LOWELL GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 6 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE SECOND FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |