Why
do you sit there and jingle your bracelets in mere idle sport?
Fill
your pitcher. It is time for you to come home.
Why
do you stir the water with your hands and fitfully glance at the road
for some one in mere idle sport?
Fill
your pitcher and come home.
The
morning hours pass by--the dark water flows on.
The
waves are laughing and whispering to each other in mere idle sport.
The
wandering clouds have gathered at the edge of the sky on yonder rise of
the land.
They
linger and look at your face and smile mere idle sport.
Fill
your pitcher and come home.