It brims with many a field, stable and slough,
Miles from civilization, the village Lindau.
Cows graze in verdant pastures endless,
As they moo with bovine contentedness.
A distant tractor plows a lonely furrow,
Sowing the seeds for my beer tomorrow.
The summer sun tumbles down the far horizon,
Painting on the sky, myriad shades of crimson.
As I scamper through forest, hill and vale,
The spirit soars, and troubles pale.
Alas, the academic grind beckons to me again,
With a sad heart, I bid thee 'auf wiedersehen'.
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