Porcelain

Every day the wondrous lovely
Sultan's daughter spent the evening
On the paths beside the fountain
Where the foaming waters murmur.

Every day the slave boy watched her
On the paths beside the fountain
Where the foaming waters murmur;
Every day he turned more pallid.

Then one eve the princess halted,
Firing off the urgent questions:
What's your name? I want to know it,
And your country and your people!

And the slave boy said: They call me
Mohammed, I'm from the Yemen,
And my tribe -- the famous Asra,
They who die when love enslaves them.

(Heinrich Heine)