Im Walde Wandl' Ich und Weine

Im Walde wandl' ich und weine

I pace the greenwood, bitter
With tears, and as I go
A thrush begins to twitter,
" Why are you sorrowing so? "

Ask of your sisters, the swallows;
They know though none of them tells . . .
They nest in the eaves and hollows
Where the beloved dwells.
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