The Merry Wanderer

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There lived a merry wanderer,

a wanderer, a wanderer,

who travelled here and travelled there,

on every path and everywhere.

And all the flowers saw him go,

they saw him go, they saw him go,

and turned their heads and wondered just

what granted him such wanderlust.

At day he walked with merry joy,

with merry joy, such merry joy,

but when the sun gave in to night,

he slept right through till next day's light.

A wise man, I must say, he was,

he really was, he truly was,

to sleep and in the first bright rays

with newfound strength use well the days.

(From Ssalia and the Dragons of Avienot, 2012)

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