It's been a strange seven years
thru all of the scuttle
i've made my decisions
by choice of the gavial
laid down the law
to not change a thing
that is how it is, this is how
it will be
we fuss and we fight
i know this isn't right
when safety is found only
in the silence of night

Water lily in the water of the small canal
There are snails, oysters in the mud

Little waterhen widens her mouth
Mother is giving food

Hoppers are flying around
Gavial comes out of the hole

Small fishes play again
In the water of intensive black canal

Chill is roaming in the air
Time passes like this.