You babble, beautiful stream, watering animals and plants, running, hurrying to reach the river below. The spring water, a vein of the mountain, gushes clear. I hold my bow in my left hand. The quiver with arrows hangs on my shoulder. Wild animals and birds of the sky come to drink, a startled hare, a colorful partridge, a small bear. Watch out, little deer! The wolf lurks behind the bushes. The deer is cautious. It sees me. It comes gracefully to rub against my feet. It is petted. It secretly prides itself. It knows that of all the forest animals, this one I love the most. It is slender and beautiful. It is also fast.