That in the still night its murmur has made,
And in the day’s heat a crystal fountain leaps.
When the sky is serene how gently it flows,
And its zither unseen ceaselessly plays;
But when the rains fall a torrent it goes
Boiling and foaming through the rocky close.
Roaring unchecked to the sea’s wide ways.
The howl of the dog and the song of the bird,
And only the kalaw’s hoarse call resound;
Nor is the voice of vain man to be heard,