"Tell us our good master

Why you sit there so quietly

And where are the trophies

You usually bring home

Like the heads of the Bengal tiger

That decorate your great hall

And the skins of lion and zebra

That you've laid wall to wall..."

"My friends, in the foothills before the rainy season

I went out hunting one day all by myself,

Keeping the wind in my face I crept up

To where a herd of deer were grazing

When suddenly before me

Stood a great horned king of stags

And it's the truth I tell you, believe me

As the lord above's my witness,

The great beast did not quaver

But softly began to speak..."

"It's written in the stars, lord

Upon this day I die

So these my gifts I offer

To you this Eastertide:

These majestic antlers for you

To hang your bows on

And these my ears as fine cups

For you to toast your ladies,

Take both my bright eyes

For a pair of shining mirrors

And all these bristles

For brushes to shave your face.

I pray that you eat my flesh for ten days

And from my hide you make a warm coat

And as for your strength and courage

My liver will serve you well

Thus in the stars it's written, my good sir

That the body of this your servant

Seven times will be fruitful

And seven times be reborn..."

"Tell us our good master

why you sit there so quietly

and where are all the trophies

you usually bring home..."