The sound of a zither emanated from the tent, with a melancholic male voice singing a lullaby recounting the deeds of an ancient Paratu king.
The aides were familiar with this song.
Many aides had been lulled to sleep by this lullaby in their childhood.
Yet hearing it again today brought a different feeling.
The melancholic voice sang softly:
"Oh, dear Flowering Tree, where do you grow in the swamp?
"Hey, hey, oh dear, where do you grow in the swamp?
"Where do you grow in the swamp? Could it be on the moss-covered path?
"Hey, hey, oh dear, could it be on the moss-covered path?
"Oh, dear mother, why did you raise me?
"Hey, hey, oh dear, why did you raise me?
"Why did you raise me only to send me to the battlefield?
"Hey, hey, oh dear, why did you send me to the battlefield?
"Why send me to the battlefield and give me three horns?
"Hey, hey, oh dear, why did you give me three horns?
"Blow the first horn when stepping out the door.
