Water rushes on; brown, green or silver
as it breaks stone,
it caries particles as sand along
till it is gone,
filling everything that it covers,
has a loud tone
that thunders ominous where it does fall
but it allures, draws both people big and small.
[Reference: 'What Any Lover Learns' by Archibald MacLeish.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem