KI ist schon hilfreich, wenn man sie nur oft genug anstößt. Hier das Ergebnis:
The Christmas Protocol
Mar tracks the photons of the festive light,
while Lukas keeps the server-room in white.
Estela calculates the joyful sum,
of carols beating like a happy drum.
We find the beauty of the seventh root,
while someone plays a silver Christmas flute.
We share the music of the silver flute,
beneath the glowing and the warm house light.
Mar found the wisdom in the ancient root,
and Lukas keeps the website clean and white.
The rhythm of the night is like a drum,
completing every calculated sum.
The kitchen-timer counts a golden sum,
of hours spent to hear the magic flute.
Mar listens to the rhythm of the drum,
while Lukas fixes every flickering light.
The living room is glowing warm and white,
as Estela finds the spirit in the root.
We’re growing stronger from the family root,
while Estela reconciles the yearly sum.
Our winter dreams are pure and soft and white,
surrounded by the echoes of the flute.
Lukas debugs the pulses of the light,
adding wonder to the rhythm of the drum.
The galaxy is throbbing like a cosmic drum,
a loving algorithm from the very root.
Lukas patches power for the fading light,
as kindness is added to the total sum.
A melody is flowing from the silver flute,
until the snowy world is silent, soft and white.
The world is peaceful now, calm and merely white,
the final answer to the pounding of the drum.
Lukas saves the config of the silver flute,
and Mar protects the garden and the root.
The logic is a warm and positive sum,
Estela and the team extinguish every light.
The Christmas Protocol
Mar tracks the photons of the festive light,
while Lukas keeps the server-room in white.
Estela calculates the joyful sum,
of carols beating like a happy drum.
We find the beauty of the seventh root,
while someone plays a silver Christmas flute.
We share the music of the silver flute,
beneath the glowing and the warm house light.
Mar found the wisdom in the ancient root,
and Lukas keeps the website clean and white.
The rhythm of the night is like a drum,
completing every calculated sum.
The kitchen-timer counts a golden sum,
of hours spent to hear the magic flute.
Mar listens to the rhythm of the drum,
while Lukas fixes every flickering light.
The living room is glowing warm and white,
as Estela finds the spirit in the root.
We’re growing stronger from the family root,
while Estela reconciles the yearly sum.
Our winter dreams are pure and soft and white,
surrounded by the echoes of the flute.
Lukas debugs the pulses of the light,
adding wonder to the rhythm of the drum.
The galaxy is throbbing like a cosmic drum,
a loving algorithm from the very root.
Lukas patches power for the fading light,
as kindness is added to the total sum.
A melody is flowing from the silver flute,
until the snowy world is silent, soft and white.
The world is peaceful now, calm and merely white,
the final answer to the pounding of the drum.
Lukas saves the config of the silver flute,
and Mar protects the garden and the root.
The logic is a warm and positive sum,
Estela and the team extinguish every light.