Answer:
A slow, solemn square-dance of warriors feinting. One by one they fall, warriors fainting, thirty-two on sixty-four.
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. And whoever knows it wants it not
As soft as silk, as white as milk, as bitter as gall, a thick green wall, and a green coat covers me all.
I fly, yet I have no wings. I cry, yet I have no eyes. Darkness follows me. Lower light I never see.
Hold these between your knees if you want to set a Cuban beat.
Iām grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.