Go on, toot your horn.
Sing your song, sweet nightingale.
Today, a new lover is born.
Write your words oh instrument of virtue,
Go on, share your merit.
Preach your wisdom, oh divine oracle.
Tonight, a new lover is dead.
Portray your emotion oh instrument of sorrow,
Go on, weep to the world.
Shower your tears, poor widow of love.
Dear lover, who's lost her head.
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