Springs

Springs

The bounty of the earth, from

Its soul, the springs

By the hillside, along

Every road,

And at the path to the yard,

Without any price,

They were given to us.

Bottles, tubes, and reservoirs

Were invented,

Sealed in bottles.

The springs were forgotten,

Their streams

Dried up.

The song of the nightingale

Was never seen

In the eyes of the spring.