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.