THE BROKEN STRING.

People were those who
Broke for me the string.
Therefore,
The place became like this to me,
On account of it,
Because the string was that which broke for me.[1]
Therefore,
The place does not feel to me,
As the place used to feel to me,
On account of it.
For,
The place feels as if it stood open before me,
Because the string has broken for me.
Therefore,
The place does not feel pleasant to me,
On account of it.

The above is a lament, sung by Xaa-tting after the death of his friend, the magician and rain-maker !nuing|kui-ten; who died from the effects of a shot he received when going about, by night, in the form of a lion.

[1. Now that "the string is broken", the former "ringing sound in the sky" is no longer heard by the singer, as it had been in the magician's lifetime.]

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