It's an old tale. there was a meistersinger
in a great country rich with gold and flower
his melodies made the hearts of the old
and the young men and women dance, so to speak .
he was the hero of everyon's imagination.
far and near he had to travel all over the festivals
all year long ;a living legend, intoxicated by
the soooound of the festival drumshe would
sing the tunes that would make
roses, white lotuses, red hibiscuses
and the tagora flowers bloom
in a moment the garden
would become a mass meeting.
after some time because it was deemed
necessary by the nominatedlarge organization
like a flood he inundatedcontiniously
the ehole country with unstoppable lectures,
the sound of the v oce that once expressed
the gesturesof flowers, melodies divine
now that ssame voce rains
numerous pewter and leaden parts.
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