The Old One |
| And what is this they build? Jutting into me Reaching over, down through me Great hulks floating on me And then holding, containing me: They do not like my wandering The busy little creatures I remember their coming Inquisitive, probing, searching Clever They catch the fish Learn to float on me Trees, reeds crafted into vessels Clever creatures But I do not mind They are busy with me But I flow on just the same Then they began the building Began to shape me Not much, not at first But nothing stops them They take little damp bits Marshes, reeds where I seep into earth And alongside me build their shelters I destroy them, many times Sometimes swelling Sometimes shrinking Sometimes I change my path through earth Rain, wind, sea are brothers We change together And they keep building Building out into And, at last, over me Deep down into me And the spans reaching over me I wash it away It was easy But they grow cleverer I batter, I churn but I can not shift it And they grow bolder All around me They build And in, and over and surrounding me Sometimes my brothers give me strength And I can wash them away But they always come back Stronger, cleverer And they take water from me Fill me with their filth Strange things I do not know I am choked The fish die I smell strange And my sisters, they swallow them Turn them into ditches Choked with their filth They hold me, I cannot move I become old Slow, weak Motionless Year after year the same earth I cannot wander, I cannot move Then they become quieter on me All around me buildings, yes But on me, less So many buildings over me, they do not need me I think they forget me Even the filth is less And the fishes are returning But maybe my time is coming again My brother sea tells me he is getting stronger He is swelling And that one day he lends me his strength And together we wash them away The clever, busy ones Wash away all their buildings, all their makings And I am free once more |