OH MY FISH
Are they from the river, the sea or the fish farm?
I do not know; but, poor things!
With its cute little snout
Freezing to death
At the Mercadona fish shop
At Carrefour or at your uncle’s store.
Those who are from the sea
They have come loaded on Hippos
From the Nile, from Aswan or from Alexandria
They who swim
Every day of its life.
Those who fish in the river
Like barbels, trout or crabs
They have colored pints
And they are very fine food
As the riddle says.
The fisherman in a barge or rod
That looks at the sun from the front
Without being blinded
He imitates all of them
He doesn’t invent anything.
“The things that I do
They are all bluster”
As he himself says.
Now you don’t have to go to sea
Nor go down to the river
Well the fish come to us
In cans or boxes filled with cold.
I come to the pond
Where with big eyes
Emerald green
The frog sings
What if it sees me
Jump, hide and shut up.
Then i go to the bar
Of the road
That it is posada too
And I ask for a beer cane
With breaded and fried legs
Of frog.