The Well. The town may be changed,
But the well cannot be changed.
It neither decreases nor increases.
They come and go and draw from the well.
If one gets down almost to the water
And the rope does not go all the way,
Or the jug breaks, it brings misfortune.

Changing Lines

One does not drink the mud of the well.
No animals come to an old well.

At the wellhole one shoots fishes.
The jug is broken and leaks.

The well is cleaned, but no one drinks from it.
This is my heart's sorrow,
For one might draw from it.
If the sovereign were clear-minded,
Good fortune might be enjoyed in common.

The well is being lined. No blame.

In the well there is a clear, cold spring
From which one can drink.

One draws from the well
Without hindrance.
It is dependable.
Supreme good fortune.