Sitting by water I look,
And see it move without effort,
Around, over, under, through,
The bones of the earth.
Clear and pure it flows like the people's spirit,
Like our stories told,
By the old people,
Without seeming effort.
The stones resist patiently, sometimes angrily,
Like other peoples who deal with us,
Many colored and shaped and hardened,
Smooth, rough, round, angular, all kinds.
The water covers them all,
It covers and moves the stones,
Without effort or judgment,
Enduring it moves mountains.
Finally, the water will win,
Cleansing and purifying,
Its victory is final,
The stones disappear.
Moving without effort,
Our spirit and stories will endure,
Our victory in time, will be,