4
In the swamp in secluded recesses，
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary the thrush，
The hermit withdrawn to himself， avoiding the settlements，
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat，
Death's outlet song of life， （for well dear brother I know，
If thou wast not granted to sing thou would'st surely die.）
In the swamp in secluded recesses，
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary the thrush，
The hermit withdrawn to himself， avoiding the settlements，
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat，
Death's outlet song of life， （for well dear brother I know，
If thou wast not granted to sing thou would'st surely die.）