It was evening, and yet no one came to bring the poor bird a drop of water; he stretched out
his slender wings, and shook them. His song was a mournful "pipi"; his little head bent towards the flowers; and the bird's heart broke from thirst and desire. The flower could not now, as on the preceding evening, f
old together her leaves and sleep; she bent down sad and sick to the ground.
The boys did not come till the next morning; and when they saw the bird was dead, they wept bitterly. They dug a pretty
grave, which they adorned with flower petals; the bird's corpse was put into a pretty red box-royally was the poor bird buried! While he lived and sang they forgot him, left him suffering in his cage, and now, he was highly honoured
and bitterly bewailed.
Bit the piece of turf with the daisy in it was thrown out into the street; no one thought of her who had felt most for the little bird, and who had so much wished to comfort him.
已经是夜晚了，还是没有人给可怜的鸟儿水喝，它伸了伸自己柔弱的翅膀，然后拍一拍。 它的嘴里哼唱着悲哀的「啾啾」的曲调，它小小的头朝着雏菊垂落下来，终于，小鸟在口渴和祈求之中死去了，它的心碎了。 雏菊现在也无心像前一个夜晚那样地合起花瓣睡觉，她悲伤地弯下身子，而且生病了。
那两个男孩一直到隔天早晨才回来，他们一看见小鸟死了，于是哭得很伤心。 他们挖了一个相当精巧的坟，用花瓣装饰它，小鸟的尸体装在一个美丽的红盒子里，隆重肃穆地被埋葬了。 它活着能唱歌的时候，他们把它遣忘，留它在笼子里饱受煎熬，如今他们只能对它致敬并悲哀地叹息了。