Memory, come tell a fairy taleAbout my girl who's lost and gone.Tell, tell about the golden grailAnd bid the swallow, bring her back to me.Fly close to her and ask her soft and lowIf she thinks of me sometimes with love, If she is well? Ask too before you goIf I am still her dearest, precious dove.And hurry back, don't lose your way,So I can think of other things.But you were too lovely, perhaps, to stay.I loved you once. Good-bye, my love.
-Celeste Raspanti
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