O pretty troubadours!
Play flutes made out of wood.
Your tunes remind us softly
Of old and ancient moods;
Of the medieval ladies,
Who strolled down fields of green,
Of lovers, speaking gently,
Not wishing to be seen.
O pretty troubadours!
Play loud your clear songs.
Let melodies be answered,
Let melodies endure.
(c)kRu, 1997
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