Riddle me, riddle me, rin-ะต-go, mother gave me some seeds to sow. The seeds were black, the ground was white. If you riddle me that, you'll escape my bite.
What are they?
A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky,
Atop a tender strand,
Rising from the land,
'Til killed by maiden's hand.
Perhaps, as a token of love.
Perhaps, to say goodbye.
What is it?
My love, when I gaze on thy beautiful face,
Careering along, yet always in place -
The thought has often come into my mind
If I ever shall see thy glorious behind.
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