Water

Water, once again your mellow flute

Plays to me your varying song,

Whose notes seem like the smell of mushrooms,

Of moss and of sleek, silken maiden-hair,

So that along all the tiny streams

That refresh the lonely places,

Your sparkling presence laughs and ripples

With the jewels of serene music.

Water, while along your banks the whispering reeds

Playfully wiggle their blue fingers,

Flickering longer shadows in the light,

You wind your fleeting way, seeing

On my brooding forehead and on each of the leaves

The passing shadows of clouds.