A joyous bird soared
in the woods to pour
his joyous song
to his love unwronged.
But by a man, who saw
and heard his song soar,
he was trapped, no more
to sing in freedom; thus was wronged
a joyous bird.
In his cage, on a drawer,
his throbbing melody soars
a sorrowful plainsong,
a melancholic monophthong,
for he is, no more,
a joyous bird.