Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are pass’d away;
And many a heart, that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so ’twill be when I am gone;
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other hards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells.
Вечерний звон, вечерний звон!
Как много дум наводит он
О юных днях в краю родном,
Где я любил, где отчий дом,
И как я, с ним навек простясь,
Там слушал звон в последний раз!
Уже не зреть мне светлых дней
Весны обманчивой моей!
И сколько нет теперь в живых
Тогда веселых, молодых!
И крепок их могильный сон;
Не слышен им вечерний звон.
Лежать и мне в земле сырой!
Напев унывный надо мной
В долине ветер разнесет;
Другой певец по ней пройдет,
И уж не я, а будет он
В раздумье петь вечерний звон!
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are pass'd away;
And many a heart, that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so 'twill be when I am gone;
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other hards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells.
Evening Bells , curfew !
How many thoughts , he suggests
About young days in its homeland ,
Where I loved where his father's house ,
And like me, with him forever I'm sorry,
There listening to the ringing of the last time!
I will not ripen bright days
My spring deceptive !
And how there is now alive
Then cheerful young !
And their strong sepulchral sleep;
Not heard them curfew .
And I lay in the damp earth !
Chant unyvny me
In the valley of the wind will spread ;
Another singer on her pass,
And it is not me, but he will
In meditation sing curfew !
