Round and round and up and under—
who will hear my song, I wonder?
This way, that way, high and low—
who comes seeking what I know?

Child of sunlight, child of rain,
child of dirt and dreams and pain,
captive to a king's design
hear my call as I hear thine.

Round and round and up and under—
who will hear my song, I wonder?
This way, that way, high and low—
who comes seeking what I know?

Mazes are for lovers' pleasure—
who comes seeking loves but treasure.
Who comes seeking loves not me—
who can this aging scoundrel be?

Tai-sharm, a fish does not forget,
not a wrong and not a debt.
I am very old and very wise,
and i saw this palace rise.
You are prisoned, as was I—
call, and I will heed your cry

Tai-sharm, a fish does not forget,
not a wrong and not a debt.
Many's the king sought my advice,
and I told them once what I tell you twice,
bide your time and wish your wish—
be as patient as a fish.

Deeper down than you may dream,
down where morning sends no gleam,
where sun and shadow never fall,
yet I answer when you call..

Fishes for a little while,
let a fishes realm begile.
Strangers from a world afar—
oh, taste and savor what you are.

Peasant child and sly lightfingers,
even fishes may be singers.
Weeds and beetles, worms and kings—
all that breathes and hungers sings.

Old I am, and far I see,
and much there is to learn from me.
But how are we to live and die—
child, you are as wise as I.