I thought of Snufkin.
His tiny figure alone on a boat of pine leaf.
His fishing rod drinks in all the peace from the lake of universe.
———–
But gosh, here comes the canoe sprint.
Bulky muscles the working water mill on its fastest speed.
He knelt before the sky king, asking for strength of a surging river.
———–
His prayer worked wonder and he won by a thousand seconds.
He took all the money and glory he did not need.
The world watched him leave, disappearing into an unknown forest he would forever wander.
———–
River on Baltic Sea 
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