At The Fishhouses Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABACDEFGBHBIBGBJBBBB KBJLMBBNBOOPGNAQRBST BUGBDV WCBAXNBVBCYZVWBQBVVB A2BBVQBB2GA2GC2BBD2B BE2Although it is a cold evening | A |
down by one of the fishhouses | B |
an old man sits netting | A |
his net in the gloaming almost invisible | C |
a dark purple brown | D |
and his shuttle worn and polished | E |
The air smells so strong of codfish | F |
it makes one's nose run and one's eyes water | G |
The five fishhouses have steeply peaked roofs | B |
and narrow cleated gangplanks slant up | H |
to storerooms in the gables | B |
for the wheelbarrows to be pushed up and down on | I |
All is silver the heavy surface of the sea | B |
swelling slowly as if considering spilling over | G |
is opaque but the silver of the benches | B |
the lobster pots and masts scattered | J |
among the wild jagged rocks | B |
is of an apparent translucence | B |
like the small old buildings with an emerald moss | B |
growing on their shoreward walls | B |
The big fish tubs are completely lined | K |
with layers of beautiful herring scales | B |
and the wheelbarrows are similarly plastered | J |
with creamy iridescent coats of mail | L |
with small iridescent flies crawling on them | M |
Up on the little slope behind the houses | B |
set in the sparse bright sprinkle of grass | B |
is an ancient wooden capstan | N |
cracked with two long bleached handles | B |
and some melancholy stains like dried blood | O |
where the ironwork has rusted | O |
The old man accepts a Lucky Strike | P |
He was a friend of my grandfather | G |
We talk of the decline in the population | N |
and of codfish and herring | A |
while he waits for a herring boat to come in | Q |
There are sequins on his vest and on his thumb | R |
He has scraped the scales the principal beauty | B |
from unnumbered fish with that black old knife | S |
the blade of which is almost worn away | T |
- | |
Down at the water's edge at the place | B |
where they haul up the boats up the long ramp | U |
descending into the water thin silver | G |
tree trunks are laid horizontally | B |
across the gray stones down and down | D |
at intervals of four or five feet | V |
- | |
Cold dark deep and absolutely clear | W |
element bearable to no mortal | C |
to fish and to seals One seal particularly | B |
I have seen here evening after evening | A |
He was curious about me He was interested in music | X |
like me a believer in total immersion | N |
so I used to sing him Baptist hymns | B |
I also sang quot A Mighty Fortress Is Our God quot | V |
He stood up in the water and regarded me | B |
steadily moving his head a little | C |
Then he would disappear then suddenly emerge | Y |
almost in the same spot with a sort of shrug | Z |
as if it were against his better judgment | V |
Cold dark deep and absolutely clear | W |
the clear gray icy water Back behind us | B |
the dignified tall firs begin | Q |
Bluish associating with their shadows | B |
a million Christmas trees stand | V |
waiting for Christmas The water seems suspended | V |
above the rounded gray and blue gray stones | B |
I have seen it over and over the same sea the same | A2 |
slightly indifferently swinging above the stones | B |
icily free above the stones | B |
above the stones and then the world | V |
If you should dip your hand in | Q |
your wrist would ache immediately | B |
your bones would begin to ache and your hand would burn | B2 |
as if the water were a transmutation of fire | G |
that feeds on stones and burns with a dark gray flame | A2 |
If you tasted it it would first taste bitter | G |
then briny then surely burn your tongue | C2 |
It is like what we imagine knowledge to be | B |
dark salt clear moving utterly free | B |
drawn from the cold hard mouth | D2 |
of the world derived from the rocky breasts | B |
forever flowing and drawn and since | B |
our knowledge is historical flowing and flown | E2 |
Elizabeth Bishop
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about At The Fishhouses poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Best Poems of Elizabeth Bishop