The Valley
Friday, 4 January 2002
Friday, 4 January 2002
[Verse 1]
Let me tell a story of a valley, verdant,
Green and lush and abundant.
Down the valley flowed so clear—a stream
From which life did flourish, life did teem.
[Verse 2]
Now in this valley a wall was made;
'Twas built so the stream it dammed, the water it stayed.
And long stood the wall, so crude and rough;
Poorly built, but seeming sturdy enough.
[Verse 3]
It was I that built the wall, the water to hold,
To save my feet—ever wet, ever cold.
So stones I found, stones I gathered, stones I laid;
Over many years, a dam I made.
[Verse 4]
At first, a small wall sufficed to stop the creek,
But soon enough, over the top, water began to trickle and leak.
So to enlarge the wall I laboured hard, I laboured long,
Eventually having before me a dam, imposing and strong.
[Verse 5]
Then the valley below the dam became dry and torrid;
The water that once gave it life had been contained or diverted.
In time, what had been green and lush became dry and empty,
And I was thirsty. O, how I was thirsty.
[Verse 6]
My desire for the life-giving water became a desperate aching,
So stones I started pulling, the dam I started breaking.
Then, to my delight, water came rushing through the hole I'd created.
I drank, and it was good. I drank, and I was elated.
[Verse 7]
Very soon, yes—it was almost immediately, cracks appeared
In the dam, around the hole I had cleared.
The cracks grew and, by the power of water repressed, the dam was rent;
Water flooded through the breach in an unstoppable torrent.
[Verse 8]
All I can do now is desperately clutch the stones,
But I feel my grip weakening.
Let me tell a story of a valley, verdant,
Green and lush and abundant.
Down the valley flowed so clear—a stream
From which life did flourish, life did teem.
[Verse 2]
Now in this valley a wall was made;
'Twas built so the stream it dammed, the water it stayed.
And long stood the wall, so crude and rough;
Poorly built, but seeming sturdy enough.
[Verse 3]
It was I that built the wall, the water to hold,
To save my feet—ever wet, ever cold.
So stones I found, stones I gathered, stones I laid;
Over many years, a dam I made.
[Verse 4]
At first, a small wall sufficed to stop the creek,
But soon enough, over the top, water began to trickle and leak.
So to enlarge the wall I laboured hard, I laboured long,
Eventually having before me a dam, imposing and strong.
[Verse 5]
Then the valley below the dam became dry and torrid;
The water that once gave it life had been contained or diverted.
In time, what had been green and lush became dry and empty,
And I was thirsty. O, how I was thirsty.
[Verse 6]
My desire for the life-giving water became a desperate aching,
So stones I started pulling, the dam I started breaking.
Then, to my delight, water came rushing through the hole I'd created.
I drank, and it was good. I drank, and I was elated.
[Verse 7]
Very soon, yes—it was almost immediately, cracks appeared
In the dam, around the hole I had cleared.
The cracks grew and, by the power of water repressed, the dam was rent;
Water flooded through the breach in an unstoppable torrent.
[Verse 8]
All I can do now is desperately clutch the stones,
But I feel my grip weakening.
