It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est read more

It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est opus,
Igitur demum fodere puteum, ubi sitis fauces tedet.]

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's read more

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over
rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are
timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of
the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.

The world turns softly
Not to spill its lakes and rivers,
The water is held in its read more

The world turns softly
Not to spill its lakes and rivers,
The water is held in its arms
And the sky is held in the water.
What is water,
That pours silver,
And can hold the sky?

The miller sees not all the water that goes by his mill.

The miller sees not all the water that goes by his mill.

Still waters run no mills.

Still waters run no mills.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
read more

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
. . . .
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.

Enough shovels of earth -- a mountain. Enough pails of water -- a river.

Enough shovels of earth -- a mountain. Enough pails of water -- a river.

With true friends . . . even water drunk together is sweet enough.

With true friends . . . even water drunk together is sweet enough.

Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner:
Honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire.

Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner:
Honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire.