Under a column of tall trees,
The wren sings and dances.
He feels like a king,
Whose reign knows no end.
Once he sang an old love song, The other wrens became solemn.
They started to cry and wring their wings.
Tears roll down until dawn.
Morning came and they all flew,
To the empty skies.
The lonesome little wren
Sat still sad and alone.
