Where is the little bird

that used to carry me

over the river and the

cane fields?

I need his songs

that tell of the love

of the country girl

and the coffee plantation



He introduced me to

the captain of the woodlands:

it was the palm tree,

sad and silent --

and he told me the tale

of his bitter travail,

the farmers have been robbed

of their souls and their freedom



We went to listen to the warble

of the river and the spring

while the cricket sang

on the hearth

and he taught me to count

the stars in the sky

and to kiss a lovely country girl,

the rapture of my dreams --



little bird, little bird

where are you singing?