Oh-lark sing to me my dear
If thy can soothe my agonized heart
In this dismal prone hours.
The wind is straining
And the woods are waning
To scare thee from singing.
The wee hour turns anxious
Thy melody vanishes in silence
Queer, unexpected frailty outrages
All my expectations.
Oh-lark what a cruel fate!
How shall a small wish survive
In this fragmented world?
How shall this bleeding heart
Take delight for a while?
Oh-dear make me hear that magical flute
For a moment and touch my soul
With thine immortal tune
I wish ye might live for long
With thy ever cherishing melody
Till the judgement days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem