Testament of a Fisherman
I fish because I love to; because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly; because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties, and assorted social posturing I thus escape; because, in a world where most men seem to spend their lives doing things they hate, my fishing is at once an endless source of delight and an act of small rebellion; because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and humility and endless patience; because I suspect that men are going along this way for the last time, and I for one don't want to waste the trip; because mercifully there are no telephones on trout waters; because only in the woods can I find solitude without loneliness; because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes better out there; because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid; and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant - and not nearly so much fun.
-John Voelker (Robert Traver )
(when reading this poem, for me -- replace "fish" with "walk with Gatsby"
what is your testament, my little blades?
I saw the man who wrote this poem -- he also wrote Anatomy of a Murder -- on one of Charles Kuralt's VHS tapes when I was little... And I never forgot it.
The author actually reads his poem over a quite stream where the camera shows him fly fishing... Pretty magical.
I am having a VERY exciting day tomorrow.
Stay tuned.
I send you all, all of my darling Little Blades, Love... Always!
No comments:
Post a Comment