The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.2008, Síða 10

8
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Vol. 62 #1
Many hours go by as they work on their catch
The men are too tired to talk.
Sorting the fish according to size
Preparing and packing each box.
It’s morning once more, and they’re back on the lake
Most of them raring to go.
They’re all pulling their nets to be off the lake
‘Cause the season has come to a close.
We must stop for a while and think about things
Sip on our beer ‘fore it warms.
We’ll just sit here all day drinking beer after beer
Reminiscing about the worst of the storms.
The nets are all spread, now a month has gone by
The ice has formed over the lake.
We go out on the ice, making our claims,
Jigging nets under, stake after stake.
It’s a dangerous job, to be out on the ice
A place where you have to be quick.
It makes a terrible sound as it cracks all around
With the ice only four inches thick.
The strong winds come up and the ice starts to move
And piles up under nature’s great force.
For the mountains it makes, and the fishermen it breaks
Losing their nets in the course.
As the weather gets cold, the ice becomes safe
The fishermen make daily lifts.
You will notice a smile on each brown, windburnt face
As they bombardier over the drifts.
Day after day and month after month
They fish on the snow-covered plains.
The nets slide up through auger-drilled holes
And get pulled back under again.