Someone said: ''they're like butterflies at day,
And slowly in the night they fly away.''
A time to bloom for them's the time of night,
When visiting, they do adorn the sight.
To where, to who and how – we do not know,
Except some, who are involved in their show.
With swaying moves and dancing fans they swing,
Accompanied by ancient songs they sing.
Their fan is blooming, fair as the summer-flowers,
Crafted in many dedicated hours.