Yemayá and Oshún lived together in the ocean for some time. Whereas Oshún enjoyed churning up everything with her agitating stride, her sister merely cast quiet eyes into the depths, contemplating their domains.
An octopus once came to Yemayá complaining that Oshún had tied his tentacles in knots! Both sisters struggled over this and the sea got very rough.
Another day, after another argument:
“Go away, Oshún. I’m sick and tired of your jokes.”
“I will leave, alright! But there will be always something there to remind you…”
Lithe and supple, Oshún soon made it to the surface. Then a wake of white foam spread out from the furrow she made as she ploughed through the sea.
Eventually she saw a beautiful land in the distance. She made a decision.
“I’ll go live in the sunshine; it’ll make my skin brighter.”
Once on land, she thought to herself:
“I know precisely what to do to make Yemayá think of me for keeps.”
She exercised her powers! Suddenly fresh water spouted out in front of her! It was like a thin skein at first; then it was like endlessly widening snakes; finally it spread to the banks of mighty rivers.
It is said that, especially during the silences of the night, but even in the afternoons that are full of bird songs, the lilting waters could be heard making their slow ways to the seas.
Yemayá, mistress of the oceans, finally heard the music. She knew immediately that Oshún had become mistress of the rivers!
Since then, both of them have got on well—each, of course, in her own world of water.