Tiger von Eschnapur, Der

between here and the palace.
You know that tune?
My father used to sing it.

There used to be
words too...

but I've forgotten them.
It's an Irish folksong.
The lasses
who go to the well...

Only think of Pat
The lasses who stand
at the well

And see themselves
reflected there

Only wait for Pat
Pat Murphy lies
in a watery grave

And yearning
is in vain

The lasses
who go to the shore

And keep a watch
for distant sails

Only hope for him
Only hope for him.
Sahib, I've found
the words again.

But it's an Irish folksong.
Seetha, who was your father?
My origins are obscure
and shadowy

like the nights
of the moon goddess.

I was very young
when my parents died.

The priests raised me.
Did your father have
a pale face like mine?

I can't remember his face.
I was very ill.
We were all ill.

Vultures circled
over the houses

and jackals came
to the doors.

A lot of people died then.
My parents too.