Oh forest, why have you withered,
Withered, faded.
Did the frost freeze you,
Or the fire burn you?
The frost didn't freeze me,
Nor the fire burn me.
But there passed yesterday evening
Three chains of young slaves.
The first chain was of heroes,
The second chain was of girls,
The third chain was of brides
Leaving small children.
The forest has withered from sorrow,
Withered, faded.
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