The Fisherman Poem by Atef Ayadi

I am standing up
In the middle
Of the lake.
My feet are touching the ground
The lake is soft and tender.
The water is endlessly pure.
The floor is nothing but
Marble.
I came to relax
And stand up.
Yes, I came to fish
In the middle of it.
I only have little yard thread
And a dream
To hold a fish
Between my hands.

Here is my fish!
Out of nowhere,
Rolling and wrapping itself
Around the thread.
Both never expected
To be in the middle of nowhere.
I do not want
To pull the thread
And I do not resist
The picture of
The fish is trying to make her way to my hands.
I held it
Softly the between
My hands;
Then
I freed it
As if I am freeing myself
From the idea of being
In middle of nowhere.