a young magician darvish with his two friends of pilgrimage, Aziz, a branch-fake-snake and Hakim, some sort of counselor vulture.
They are in a break on a desert place, closer a thin dying river.
Few water around.
-oh,majestic Lord Roc, Lord of Birds!we could have never imagined you leave some of your sons sleeping under the bottom of this dying river ages ago, waiting for their awake in your voice!!please have some mercy about us and let us contemplate your miracles and leave us still alive to tell across the way your wonders!!-croaked Hakim in bird tongues to the giant Thunderbird Lord, King of Birds,the magnificient,immutable Lord Roc,once the sun was covered by these impossible big wings.
Le roi et le oiseau
De sol a sol
labrando tierra tendrás tu pan
todos los ríos van al mar
pero este nunca se llenará
todos los ríos
siempre volverán adonde salieron
para comenzar a correr de nuevo
lo que siempre fue,lo mismo será
lo que siempre hicieron,repetirán.
No olvidar,lo que ves ya, se ha visto ya.
todo tiene un tiempo bajo el sol.
from dawn till dusk
tilling the ground you ll have your food
all the rivers go to the sea
but the sea never will be full
all the rivers
ever will back to their origins
and then they start run ahead again and forever.
that it was,as it ever will be,
that they ever do,that they ever do again.
do not forget, things you see,
had been seen same as now, before.
all have his time under the sun.