All nightingales are false
Parrots are blasphemers
The true bird of sorrow
It has no throat for song
Hunger, always and always
I shall never taste your name
The lady of the night?
Or the sweetly sick rose?
That loneliest petal
It spits out no perfume
Hunger, always and always
I shall never taste your name
Neither the salt of tears
Nor the bite of syrup
For the saddest water
Is much too pure to flow
Your eye, your skin, your shadow
Your scent, your spirit, your voice
These, what I shall never know
Here, what I shall never know
Hunger, always and only
I shall never eat your name
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