We have been fetching water for many years,
Splashing through showers of heavenly falls.
Our buckets have fed a thousand children.
The local pillar is a home of wisdom.

The swamps invoke a tribal tune,
reciting the rituals of the listening forest.
There once lived a myth behind a river,
foolishly floating with passionate pride,
Its mouth sipped the Omen
Of the wondering waves,
In calm shores of stable silence.