1 Thou yellow-plumaged bird, O spare The paper-shrubs and fields of grain! For me these people show no care;— I long for kin and home again. That we judged ill, when we came here, Does from their cold neglect appear.

2 The mulberry trees and fields of maize, Thou yellow-plumaged bird, eschew! These people are a dullard race;— I long my brethren's face to view. That we judged ill, when we came here, Does from their cold neglect appear.

3 Thou yellow-plumaged bird, O fly: Those oak-trees, nor the millet eat! From this bad land I back must hie;— I long my father's kin to greet. That we judged ill, when we came here, Does from their cold neglect appear.