A young man bent over a pond
Of which he was obsessively fond
And he lowered his head
To get a drink from her bed

He lapped up the water with his tongue
His eyes were open, his head was hung
And water came rushing into the pond
As he drank it continued to spawn

When he felt that his thirst was quenched
And his fists by his side were excitedly clenched
He lifted his head, sitting by her shore
The pouring water rushing no more.