What is wrong with the river?

To take a lesson from water in the river

I find that she isn’t always fluent

Steadily, she is also scalded in self-immolation.

Finally, that ashes become fodder 

Like as fill out of womanly breast

What went wrong with the river!

Digging earth, she must be deep for water

Even the sky is figuring the soil

Making out a river with irrigation like a lady

And where the blustery wind races water

From side to side as a reindeer

That the river is she.

The beach sands don’t want to break

If the river does not go to such an extent

In deception of dying herself.