Le pêcheur

He looks like a fanatic
For the fishing cause
With his nice rod and
His reel
But if he’s fishing, it’s for laughs
And you can be sure
That his frying pan
Never saw the tiniest catch

Fishing, from what they say
For him is in the end
Just a pretext, an alibi -
We know worse -
A trick, a plausible way
To escape his home
Where the most annoying
Of harpies reigns

With a wicked joy
He rigs up at the end of his line
All sorts of random stuff
Bits of metal
Doormats, sandals
Old spiked socks
Drowned folks making a scene
As soon as they’re brought back up

If, disappointed by a blonde
Thinking of making a splash
You care more about drowning
Than getting wet
Desperate, make sure
To go take your dive
For fear it won’t come back
Away from its bobber

When a gudgeon teases him
When a roach in a playful mood
Lets itself be hooked
For fun
The guy scolds it
For its childish behavior
Then he hooks onto its tail
A little April fool

But if he catches a mermaid
One of those flirts
Half woman, half fish
The rascal -
Plot twist - devours
The beautiful creature raw
A dose of phosphorus
Can’t hurt

When he dies, when Fate
Takes him in her boat
Upstream and downstream
Trout, salmon
The black crepe at the tail no doubt
Will escort him sadly
Leaving the river all
Empty, fishless

Then, fallen into famine
Folding their nets
All sheepish, all whiny
The real fishermen
Will go home empty-handed
Dancing in front of the buffet
Being called fools
By their partner. Serves them right!