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Ode to Salmon, the Episcopal Fish
a poem in honor of Bishop Athanasius Schneider
No birdsong greets the chilly damp of dawn
In dreary gray autumnal cloud-filled skies,
As rosy salmon swim upstream to spawn
In gravel beds just where their birthplace lies.
November’s whistling wind so briskly blows
Across the frosty fields throughout the day;
Meandering, the stream quite freely flows,
O’er countless miles pursues its peaceful way.
A rose-hued flurry flashes, fights the flow,
Pursuing its two-thousand-mile-long haul;
Unlike their fellow fish, the salmon go
Against the current, following their call.
In small fresh water streams some years ago,
Their life began in shallow rapids’ foam;
Once grown they sought the ocean down below;
Now after all this while they seek their home.
Their time has come to nobly give new life;
Both male and female travel long and hard;
Their long ascent is not without great strife
As foes oft’ seek to catch them off their guard.
Along the way great obstacles abound:
While sharp-eyed eagles hover, set to slay,
Voracious bears lie still in wait around
Each river bend to catch unwary prey.
Oh look! How wonderful a sight to see
The salmon leaping high into the sky!
O’er daunting dams and waterfalls, with glee,
Three meters high they jump, and seem to fly!
Along the arduous way some do succumb;
Renouncing life, before their aim’s attained,
They float downstream; yet there are some
Who labor till their final goal is gained.
One valiant salmon fights the current’s strength,
While heedless of the hordes who seaward swim;
He never hesitates the whole long length,
Despite their chiding his apparent whim:
You foolish fish! Why struggle endlessly?
Descend with us the swiftly flowing stream;
Your eyes with awe will see: the deep blue sea
With colorful arrays of fish does teem!
Not I, said he. So irresistibly
Magnetic forces with mysterious might
Attract and pull me, while infallibly,
Some soothing scent I sense guides me aright.
’Tis pride that leads him on, so let him go;
But we will not rebelliously resist.
And so the schools of fish go with the flow,
While this sole salmon never shall desist.
Such wayward souls, thought he so sorrowfully,
How blithely do they follow folly’s way,
But ever on shall I swim, faithfully
Transmitting life; I will not go astray.
He fast propulses forward with his fin;
The long and lonely journey home is hard,
His strength is waning, day by day wears thin;
His color fades, his rosy sheen is marred.
His final aim he does at length attain;
New life is laid in shallow fresh stream bed;
Life’s cycle then commences once again:
Admire the countless eggs, their radiant red!
His goal thus won, he dies, but not in vain:
New life is born through selfless sacrifice;
His very flesh becomes in nearby plain
Rich nourishment for all: ‘twas worth the price.
Such is the salmon’s true heroic tale.
But now you ask: why such a puzzling name
For this brief ode to hail this valiant male
Who God’s design fulfills, his life’s sole aim?
“Episcopal”: why such odd epithet?
Just like this fish, a bishop’s meant to be
E’er faithful to his call to souls beget,
From spirit of the world forever free.
This apostolic man of God, we pray,
Through God’s good grace may firm resist, despite
The frosty fields, the state of Church today,
The silent birds, the pastors who took flight,
The foes, those hellish fiends just now unfurled,
The sea, vainglorious praise which soul beguiles,
The mighty current, spirit of the world,
This wayward world with all its wicked wiles.
To spawn is to obey divine decree,
Through sacraments, to give life to each soul,
To preach the truth against the rising sea
Of heresy: such is our bishop’s goal.
He is so like his famous patron saint:
True Athanasius Contra Mundum, he
Is true in word and deed with no restraint,
And worthy of his namesake strives to be.
His holy guardian angels are the force
Attracting, pulling him magnetically;
Invisibly they guide him to the source
Of life, thus leading him prophetically.
Our Lady is the sweetly soothing scent
Eliciting some misty memory
Of when, to spawn his soul, she did consent,
In cool stream bed, in shade of sacred tree.
Yet hark! The echo of Our Lady’s voice
Is heard; a gentle whisper does arise:
“Come hither, my beloved son, rejoice
In your heart’s home, eternal Paradise!”
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Karen Darantière is an American living in France who teaches English language and literature at a French high school in Paris.
Thank you for a most literate and sensitive poem. My opinion is as follows:
As one poem, it is too long. You have two, possibly three poems here – fish, Mary, and human , all of which would gain immeasurably if they baecame, say, three sonnets.You would also gain a larger audience. Your fish parable would certainly sharpen. I look forward to see more of your interesting work.
I enjoyed reading this, Karen, especially on the feast
of St. Gabriel, the Archangel. It is long but well done
IMHO. Its title intrigued me so I kept on reading and
reading to see how you would connect Bishop Schneider
to the salmon and I thought you did it well. I enjoyed the
imagery too.
Karen, while I agree with Sally Cook that shorter poems get more readers, this poem is an ode, the stateliest kind of lyric poetry. And it is exactly the 100 lines Edgar Allan Poe said a reader could manage in one sitting. Your Ode to Salmon, honoring Bishop Schneider, is beautifully structured in three parts, corresponding to the example of the ancient Greek poet Pindar. Pindar took his form from Greek drama, where the chorus would stand on one side of the stage to recite the STROPHE, dance solemnly to the opposite side for the ANTISTROPHE, and then to center stage for the EPODE. You have an 8-stanza STROPHE to describe the upstream journey of the fish. Your 8-stanza ANTISTROPHE is a colloquy where the reasons for taking an easier way are presented and answered. This is where we begin to understand the heroism for which you praise Bishop Schneider. Your EPODE more fully explicates the comparison of fish and bishop. Although some critics might dislike an author providing the correct interpretation of her own poem, I think it is a necessary part of this ode. A largely secular audience needs further information about the ideal a Christian bishop ought to exemplify, and the allegorical details are something even Christian readers might miss (for example, the attractive upward force being the guidance of guardian angels). Such points made by the poet reflect Bishop Schneider’s own complaint that the world fails to judge appearances in the light of eternal life. I myself would not have guessed that “Some soothing scent I sense guides me aright” (in stanza 11) refers to the motherly oversight of Our Lady, which you not only identify, but expand upon, in stanza 24. Your final stanza is outside the form of 8 stanzas for each of the three parts of the ode–because it is a voice from heaven ratifying the poet’s praise with a seal of approval. An awesome classical poem!
It achieves the elevated tone expected in an ode with smoothly written lines that are easy to read. But let me make some very tiny suggestions. In stanza 20, why not say “vainglory which the soul beguiles”? This preserves your meter without discarding “the.” And in stanza 19, saying “the state of the Church today” also avoids omitting “the” where English usage requires it. This second suggestion does give you two syllables between the stressed words “state” and “Church,” but that common variation does not mar iambic pentameter. In stanza 21, where “the divine decree” or “a divine decree” is needed for good usage, you might say, “the Lord’s decree” or “Our Lord’s decree.” Overall, your language and meter are admirable!