Alexander Shurbanov - WATERFALL

From the mountaintop the water leaps
head first into the precipice
and dies in a surge of foam
like icy milk boiling.
It swells into a cloud,
a huge sigh of steam
soaring to the sky.
The water is young.
The water has not grown wise.
The water knows no doubt.
The water has faith
in its ability
to transform the sluggishness of the river
into something pure and light,
lighter than itself,
higher than air.
The water has faith.
And this faith makes it different,
more alive than itself –
makes it beautiful.