The trousers, bespoke, cut to perfection,
Of little-known hand-spun yarn.
Lay in the sun, wringed and vivacious.
To create unique unidentified lines.
Of all the papyrus and linen used,
The wonders of this fabric abound.
From mysterious faraway places,
To the lands of dragons and agung.
To the discerning eye, a sigh of ecstasy,
To the indiscriminate, just a piece of rag.
Beau monde and au naturel, together,
Applauded and flagellated.