[Folklore] A long time ago, the land of Romania was devastated by a disastrous drought. Men crept about like ghosts with their bones starting through their skins and their lips drawn back so that their teeth lay bare. They wore nothing but a few rags upon their bodies. The beautiful princess Irina felt her heart breaking for pity, and wringing her hands, prayed thus, "Oh good God, hast Thou, then, quite forsaken me? Wilt Thou bring our poor land to destruction? Have we sinned yet more that we must endure such searchings-out of Thy wrath?" Then a soft, cool breath stole in, bearing a perfume as from the most beautiful of gardens, and a silvery voice spoke, "Help shall arise for thee out of a river. Only seek." Then, through the burning summer heat, the princess began a weary pilgrimage toward the rivers. Occasionally, she would stumble upon a starved little horse that would carry her for a short distance, and then fall down dead, even beneath her own light weight. Most of the time, however, Irina ...
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