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The reeds and rushes are deeply green ,
And the white dew is turned into hoarfrost .
The man of whom I think ,
Is somewhere about the water .
I go up the stream in quest of him ,
But the way is difficult and long .
I go down the stream in quest of him ,
And lo ! he is right in the midst of the water .

The reeds and rushes are luxuriant ,
And the white dew is not yet dry .
The man of whom I think ,
Is on the margin of the water .
I go up the stream in quest of him ,
But the way is difficult and steep .
I go down the stream in quest of him ,
And lo ! he is on the islet in the midst of the water .

The reeds and rushes are abundant ,
And the white dew is not yet ceased .
The man of whom I think ,
Is on the bank of the river .
I go up the stream in quest of him ,
But the way is difficult and turns to the right .
I go down the stream in quest of him ,
And lo ! he is on the island in the midst of the water .