Beautiful, contempative lyrics by a Before Common Era poet

He has no revenue;

Barges exist by his might –

He is not hewed in stone.

Mountains cleave by his surge –

One see no workmen, no leader,

He carries off in secrecy.

No one knows the place he’s in.

His cavern is not found in books.

He has no shrines, no portions,

No service of his choice;

But youths, his children, hail him,

Lawful, timely, he comes forth,

One greets him like a king.