who passed her days in solitude, weaving garments for the pleasure of her father.
One day, while she was sitting beside the great river, peering across, she saw a
handsome young shepherd boy leading his flock through the pasture. Immediately,
she fell in love. Thereafter, she became terribly disheartened, knowing that, due
to her duties at the loom, she would be unable to pursue that love. The king,
aware that by his bidding such despair had befallen her, felt great remorse, and
arranged for her to marry the shepherd.
There marriage was one of happiness from the start, and everyday thereafter
they grew happier and happier. However, in immersing herself in her marriage,
the princess had neglected her weaving and the great king became angry. Unable
to reconcile with that anger, the great king banished each of the lovers to opposite
sides of the great river, allowing them only to meet once each year: on the seventh
day of the seventh month. On that day, a ferryman would carry the shepherd boy
across the river to the princess, and return him home at day's end. However, if the
princess has not fulfilled her obligations at the loom the king floods the river, and
the two can not meet.
----------------------------------
"Up, M'Lady--Pack your things, this place is not your home.
Nor was it ever, sever every tie, tonight we ride. Tonight we ride."
"And how we've trembled at the way that time's
assembled little fires of desire in the tundra of our skin.
So, do yourself a little favor, savor every time you waver
for that shaking in my voice was only slightly feigned chagrin.
Tonight we ride."
"Oh, Lover, uncover. I know it's warm beneath your sheets
and there is ice along the streets but listen—Lover, we will recover.
But we've no time to waste with meddling in affairs
we've locked so tightly in our dreams.
We are not clean, we are not pure, we can not rest until we're sure.
So, rob your pretty little eyes of sleep's disguise.
I'm at your bedside with a bucket full of lies.
So, clear your ears and listen---
Up, M'Lady--Pack your things, this place is not your home.
But I know what is."
And to the glorious past:
You've opened my window but broken the glass.
And I beseech thee, 'shed thy beauty.'
For as a child leaves the womb and learns the cold,
you have taught us perils in the present,
and you will bring us peril in our surely-soon-to-be. Unless…
The river's not flooded this time.
Oh, Precious Distance,
Oh, Precious Pain,
You've given me a name. And
Etched it in the stones of the river bank.
Oh, Precious Distance,
Oh, Precious Pain,
You've given us a name. You've
Given us a name.
"Rise!" Said the King to the River,
"Never let up! No, bring us a flood and bring it hard!"
"Freeze!" Said the Wind to the Water,
"Never give in! No, build us a bridge!
And build it strong and angry.
Let it stills the King's decree.
Oh, you must contemplate the current,
Boy, and command that coward cease.
The boy breathes for his love says, 'I wait.'
His love says, 'I wait.'
She's shouting out, "I will come back. Yes, I will come back!
I will come—I have lived my life so uncomfortably. Darling, come for me.
Come for me."
"Rise!" Said the Boy to his Lover,
"Darling, get up. I've brought you my love, and brought it far!"
"Leave!" Said the Girl to her lover,
"I've given in. If love is a bridge, we built it wrong!"
Curb your anger.
Still your fists.
She will never come back, she'll never come back, she'll never come—
She will never come back, she'll never come back, she'll never come—
"Said the King to the River" and "Four" by LaDispute
