The morning blackbird gargles
cupfuls of bitter wine,
dream, that grows grainy with pain
in the throats of birds
because the day must be;
because the great whole
darkness no longer can remain closed.
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Gerrit Achterberg
The morning blackbird gargles
cupfuls of bitter wine,
dream, that grows grainy with pain
in the throats of birds
because the day must be;
because the great whole
darkness no longer can remain closed.