When Two Rivers Meet
When two rivers meet after a long, painful stretch,
Their cold, tearful waters grown still and sober,
Their passions ripening year by year,
That old simple land, green joy, is found only in its ideal.
They crossed before, life was youth and resolutions virulent
But dismally their impetuous tides drew them away
Or they drifted apart. Now an insomnia of years returns;
Their love of the past gently nudges their reconciliation.
When they fall in with each other in the most dolorous place,
Drawn to a lonely beach or the like by an unknown finger,
They find that one had grown hard, the other still so;
The solo sparkle now polluted by the journey inevitable
Is looked for by one in the other. Says one,
'Through forests I have roamed where dark sprites linger
And the sun stays at bay for many miles and fungi
Abound all around and spiders prey on misfortune and inexperience';
Says the other, 'Such pity, because I in the darkest light
Have frolicked through meadows and danced with the sun come alive,
After we parted, when you in the nether regions started.'