Tisza's Child  

Daughters, sons, river deaths: faces pale like moons; 
And hands, bright stars. 
Fair children cradle water graves. 
Vast river, spirits, can you hear us pray?  
Arise, hear my lullaby, how I wreck my broken love upon unlived lives. 
Vast river, dark water, I drown in lament endlessly.  
Spirit guide, river stag arise, eyes ablaze and hide steaming, pull treasures from turbid water.  
Tisza's child clothed in liquid light arise, awake, mystify. 
How I drowning bathe in rivers that flood all hope in water, final lord, and I will fly to thee.