The nightingale sings
(Këndon bilbili)

Who is that bird singing on a branch alone
And where is its flock
Which is the plaintive song
And which is the season

            That bird has a voice adept
            At singing on a solitary branch
            No friends no family
            It has come to earth on its own
            With a flute in its beak and anguish
            Which is neither a wound
            Nor a song

What is that mourning so near which belongs to us
Sing to us nightingale sing