170
FOUR SONGS OF FOUR SEASONS.
ix.
Our stream is frozen,
The fields it flows in
Are hard and black;
The water‑fairy
Waits wise and wary
Till time shall vary
And thaws come back.
'O sister, water,'
The wind besought her,
'O twin‑born daughter
Of spring with me,
Stay with me, play with me,
Take the warm way with me,
Straight for the summer and oversea.'
x.
And wise and wary