In the swamp in secluded recesses

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The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,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 gifted to sing, thou would'st surely die.)