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