Silent waters are ripples not grimaced
Where the sea plants stand limp in peaceful
Accolades for the aquatic jungle, young and unexplored . . .

Torrents of troubled wasters flake their froths at roosting time
When infertile reeds disvirgin puerile and naïve banks of
Assailed brooks

Silent waters, fodder-narrowness race of gentle run,
Running cleverly in runout channels into the plains;
And then the breasted ones foment a din which rises,
Floats and settles among bopping festive clouds above.

On a clear day, when the ague increases with a breaking noon,
Silent waters chirp noiselessly and befriend the freshness of
Nearby rills.