Soldiers, winners, crowding in the palace.
These men dining, drinking with tunes of war.
Your queen, alone without some help. Alas!
But could these men of kingdoms from lands far,
Could you try, string this bow, and hold afar,
And shoot this one arrow through cold axes?
All twelve axes without hitting pillars.
If one of you is him, may you confess?
He who can shoot arrows through these axes.
Superior king, ruler of men is he,
Ruler of my own heart through the ages,
But a cunning trickster to enemies.
Only that man can win this game, I mean.
Only him knows the ways, the turns to win.
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