Sámen kukúa ar i lisse firne;
Ar náven firnes nyérenen:
A, manan nainanes? Táleryat naute
Ó saminda líne lanyaina mányanen;
Lissi talinki karni! Manan firnel san –
Ma’n hehtanel ni, aiwe lisse, ma’n?
Erinqua oinel i taure‐aldasse,
Manan, netya! óni lá haruvánelye?
Mikunen lye íta, ninqu’ erde lyen ánen;
Ma’n lá oia milya, yall’ i wenye aldassen?

I had a dove and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied,
With a silken thread of my own hand’s weaving;
Sweet little red feet! why should you die -
Why should you leave me, sweet bird! why?
You liv’d alone in the forest‐tree,
Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me?
I kiss’d you oft and gave you white peas;
Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?

John Keats (1819)