Who can purge my heart
Of the song
And the sadness?
Who can purge my heart
But the song
Of the sadness?
What can purge my heart
Of the sadness
Of the song?
Do not speak of sorrow
With dust in her hair,
Or bits of dust in eyes
A chance wind blows there.
The sorrow that I speak of is dusted with despair.
Voice of muted trumpet.
Cold brass in warm air.
Bitter television blurred
By song that shimmers-
Where?
Langston Hughes, Song
for Billy Holiday
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