The spring water on the hill meandered its way
Amid the rocks, grass, and fern.
A compassionate man considered it as a potential site
Where exhausted hikers might turn.
He walled in the spring and hung with care
A dipper at the brink.
He thought not of the deed he did,
But that all hikers might rest and drink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem