And a tenth part of Okeanos is given to dark night a tithe of the pure water under earth so the clear fountains pour from the rock face stream from the caverns and clefts
down-running, carving wondrous ways basalt resistance, cutting deep as they go
gaia where she sleeps the cold water, the black rushing gleam, the moving, down-rush, Wash, gush out over bed-rock,toiling the boulders in flood, purling in deeps, broad flashing in falls.
and a tenth part of bright clear Okeanos his circulations - mists, rains, sheets, sheathes
black water - poisonous depths -
Styx this carver of caverns beneath us is.
the well is deep. from it's stillness the words our voices speak echo resonance follows resonance waves of this sounding come up to us
we draw the black water pure and cold the light of day is not as bright
three thousand years we have recited its virture out of Hesiod
Styx this black water, this down-pouring
is it twenty-five thousand years since the ice withdrew from the lands and we came forth from the realm of caverns where the river beneath the earth we knew we go back to.
fifty million years from the beginning of what we are- we knew the depth of this well to be
fifty million years deep but our knowing deepends time deepens this still water
styx pouring down in the spring from it's glacial remove from the black ice