English poem
The Transformed Damsel
I take my axe upon my back, To fell the tree I mean; Then came the man the wood who owned, And thrust his heft between.
"If thou hew down my father's grove, And me this damage do, If I but see thee fell the tree Thou dearly that shalt rue."
"O let me hew this single tree, Nor to resist me seek; Unless I yonder bird obtain With grief my heart will break."
"Now list thou fair and gallant swain, To me incline thine ear! Thou ne'er wilt yonder bird obtain Unless some bait thou bear."
From off my breast the bait I cut, And hung it on the bough: The breast it bled, the bait it reeked, Mine is the birdie now.
Down flew the lovely little bird, Fluttering its wings o'erjoyed; It seemed to smile as if the guile It knew that I employed.
It clawed and picked so hastily, So well did smack the bait; And still the more it seemed to please The more the birdie ate.
Down flew the lovely little bird, Alighting on the sand; The loveliest damsel she became, And gave the youth her hand.