Question

wandering fee
Write the meaning of poem
Where the voice of the wind calls our
Through echoing forest and echoing street,
With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam.
All men are our kindred, the world is our home.
Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed,
The laughter and beauty of women long dead;
The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings,
And happy and simple and sorrowful things.
What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow
Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go
No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait:
The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate.
write the meaning of the poem
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Answer 1

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