The Bird Wounded by an Arrow (French Folk Tale)

A bird, with plumèd arrow shot,

In dying case deplored her lot:

“Alas!” she cried, “the anguish of the thought!

This ruin partly by myself was brought!

Hard-hearted men! from us to borrow

What wings to us the fatal arrow!

But mock us not, ye cruel race,

For you must often take our place.”

The work of half the human brothers

Is making arms against the others.