For when she sings he listens
and when he visits she smiles,
when this nightingale suddenly appears
he writes a lucidical style.
For when he sleeps she watches
and when she cries he pains,
when this nightingale glides gently
her song echo softly again.
For when he sits she’s quiet
and when she’s vibrant he stares,
when this nightingale perches gently
he pictures her resting there.
When he turns she wonder’s
and when she leaves he sighs,
a nightingale so simply beautiful
whispers soft her last goodbyes……
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