=Tinúviel=

O Nightingale, flown away,
Your songs but memories dim.
Hark! I hear sweet singing play,
Or is it but a dream?

O Nightingale, I wait no more
For soon I have to leave.
I'd love to hear you sing once more
To bear away my grief.

O Nightingale, when you return,
Don't weep to find me lost.
Just sing to all the songs you've learnt
As you wait for winter's frost.

O Nightingale, I come again,
My heart cold frozen ice.
Perhaps your song may ease my pain
Or it may not suffice.

For I've waited here each winter's day
Since the night you flew away.