Wilhelm Busch

(1832 - 1908 / Germany)

Max And Moritz Fishing - Poem by Wilhelm Busch

Eben geht mit einem Teller
Witwe Bolte in den Keller,
Daß sie von dem Sauerkohle
Eine Portion sich hole,
Wofür sie besonders schwärmt
Wenn er wieder aufgewärmt. -
- Unterdessen auf dem Dache
Ist man tätig bei der Sache.
Max hat schon mit Vorbedacht
Eine Angel mitgebracht.

Widow Bolte, bless her soul,
Goes downstairs and takes a bowl,
And she scoops a portion out
Of her cherished sauerkraut
Which she deems to taste sublime
Heated up the second time.
In the meantime, on the sly,
Something's going on up high.
Max has shown some foresight here,
For he brought his fishing gear.


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Read poems about / on: fishing, angel, time, fish



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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