furred in green leaf, robed in sky
she went along with tresses pinned
with glints of shells along their wend.
In lilac, bistre, peach, and wine,
celadon and cream most fine--
Why jealously adorn the stream
where sunlight glints and gold carp teem?
You do not understand, said she,
My waters hold no jealousy
for I'm a master of my trade--
polishing the shines God made.
This beauty, offered for the taking,
I give. I had no part in making.
Be my banks stone dry or swollen
nothing given can be stolen.
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