Grant me your wisdom, O river lady.
I wish to be a flowing stream.
For nothing lives longer than things like she.
A dying brook has not been seen.
So how does one become like you,
A celestial nymph, creature of light?
Through darkness and gloom, a being of blue,
Subtly sparkling in the night?
“My dear man, give your wish more thought”,
The goddess whispered to me.
“Rivers are many things, but happy they are not.
We live endless cycles of tears, longing to be free.”