Rage on, mighty river of many an endless forest
For you are walking for all those that can't
For the towering trees that provide shade
And the humble shrubs that can merely sway
For the mighty canyons that your passage has shaped
And the slippery boulders that you patiently polished
For the creepers and climbers the caves and the mounds
And the hills and the grasslands that you meander about
Oh! mighty river, rage on for those that can walk,
But not as well, and as far as you could do,
For the deer, the lions, the hornets, the bees,
Even the fish, the snakes, and also for me.
As I go forth walking the other way to where you start,
I wonder if I may ask, and if I do, what you'll say,
Are you raging for you are tired of all the green,
And so you escape in haste, to join the endless, salty thee,
Or, are you not raging, but running merely in a loving haste?
Not to trade your freshness for union with the endless sea,
But because you alone can tase the nectarine sweetness,
Of the salt we can't stand, and that makes you rush with glee!
