This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers,
is not just water but the blood of our ancestors.
The rivers are our brothers,
You must henceforth give the rivers the kindness,
you would give any brother.
We know that you do not understand our ways,
one portion of the land is the same to you as the next.
For you are a stranger who come in the night,
and takes from the land whatever you need.
The earth is not your brother,
and when you have conquered it,
you move on.
I don't know.
Our ways are different from your ways.
The sight of your cities pains the eyes,
because i'am not wish.
There is no quite place in your cities,
no place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring,
or the rustle of an insect's wings.