If time should be a long, long river
With ripples in day and night
And torrents in year after year,
Over the rushing flood
Who is calling, then, faintly from upstream?
Who, knowing too well I can’t swim back,
Should be, day and night,
Calling me to go home?
If Time should be a long, long river
With ripples in day and night
And torrents in year after year,
Over the rushing flood
Who is calling, then, faintly from midstream?
Who, knowing too well I can never stay,
Should be, day and night
Calling me to get ashore?
If Time should be a long, long river
With ripples in day and night
And torrents in year after year,
Over the rushing flood
Who is calling then, faintly from downstream?
Who, knowing too well I can never say no,
Should be, day and night,
Calling me to speed ahead?
Who is calling, upstream, over the flood?
Who is calling, midstream, over the flood?
Who is calling, downstream, over the flood?
Over the flood, no road upstream;
Over the flood, no ferry midstream;
Over the flood, no bridge downstream;
Over the rushing flood.
Nothing but the river, torrential ever,
Rippling day and night,
Surging year after year.
Me only upon the torrent,
Clinging to the last reed,
To keep up the tug with the flood
All the way down the river
From the source to the mouth. |