In the palms of ambassadors

Of a royal colonial game

Lies a rendez-vous of leather and timber

Fauna and flora competing in their skins and bulk

Of a grass-scanty square

Where in the furor of wielding willows and runaway balls

Lies a paradox of soul and spirit

A game of gentlemen and warriors

Where man befriends man, palm to palm

Sporting different color-coded overalls

And rolls from the flip of a coin

To a spectacle of noise

Where lambs roar in makeshift manes

And lions surrender as beaten lambs

A meadow of milestones and tombstones

Where in each milepost and epitaph

Lies polar fates of glory

On an amphitheatre of dreams

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