Once she had drowned and started her slow descent. Down the streams to where the great rivers broaden. Oh the open sky chant most magnificent. As if it was acting as her body's guardian. Wreck and duck weed slowly increased her weight. By clasping her in their slimy grip. Through her limbs the cold blooded fishes played. Creatures and plant life kept on thus obstructing her last trip. And the sky that same evening grew dark as smoke. And its stars through the night kept the brightness still soaring. But it quickly grew clear when dawn now broke. To see that she got one further morning. Once her pallid trunk had rotted beyond repair. It happened quite slowly that she gently slipped from God's thoughts. First with her face then her hands right at the last with her hair.