The red bird, decorated with a silvery feather
Sings a song, for no one in all weather;
Plaintive it sounds, this song for no one;
Still the notes sink our hearts, one by one,
...
The Red Bird
The red bird, decorated with a silvery feather
Sings a song, for no one in all weather;
Plaintive it sounds, this song for no one;
Still the notes sink our hearts, one by one,
Into that world that belongs to no one but imprisons every heart
The Red Bird is perched atop, plays and sings, without bothered about its part