Like an army driven in human streams to fratricidal war, it drops sheer into the abyss and loudly the martial trumpets of the Niagara roar. But now away with harmony, away with canons - no pen could stand the rhythm of the water. Away with rhymes, they're quite unnecessary here, for in the noise and tumult of the torrent they won't reach even the most sensitive of ears. Here rhymes must be as deafening as thunder or, at the least, as artillery salvoes, for here wild water legions are at war. Away with logic, too, for here illogicality prevails and nothing's left of geometric rules.
Force takes the upper hand here.
Brutality comes tearing to the surface, trampling on weaklings with its feet. Here dominates a wild erupting mass, a civil war of water rages here. Here black and white and red and yellow water-races mix, and the democracy of Nature triumphs. Water and words are white and black and red and yellow democrats which break up the whole framework of old canons, break up eternal and harmonious dictatorships, creating monumental chaos. Here you will never hear the shepherd's pipe.