There was a woman, i once knew.
We sat one day, out in the woods...
and she said to me as we watched the water run
'Rivers are like women. Starting out as small girls, tiny streams decorated with wildflowers. Then they were torrents, gouging paths through sheer granite, flinging themselves off cliffs, fearless and irresistible. Later they grew fat and serveceable, broad slow curves carrying commerce and sewage, but in their unconscious depths catfish gorged, grew the size of barges, and in the hundred-year stroms, they rose up, forgetting their promises they made, the wedding-vows, and drowned everything for miles around.Finally they gave out, birth-emptied, malarial, into a fan of swamp that met the sea.'
Still I do not understand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i understand this wise woman...10+