<sup>Let’s not muddy the brook
Perhaps a pigeon is drinking water at a distance
Or perhaps in a farther thicket a goldfinch is washing her feathers
Or a pitcher is being filled in a village

Let’s not muddy the brook
Perhaps this brook runs to a poplar’s foot
To wash away the grief of a lonely heart
A dervish may be dipping dry bread in the brook

A beautiful lady walked to the brink of the brook
Let’s not muddy the brook
The lovely face has been doubled

What refreshing water!
What a spring river!
How friendly seem the folk at the upper village!
May their cows always render milk! , May their springs always gush
I have not seen their village
Surely God’s footprints lie at the foot of their huts there moonlight enlightens the expanse of words surely in the upper village hedges are low
There the folk know what sort of flower is anemone
Surely there the blue is blue
A bud is blossoming, the village inhabitants know O what a fine village it must be!
May its orchard-lanes be full of music!
The folk upstream understand the water
They did not muddy the brook We also
Must not muddy the brook</sup>