Текст песни Генри Дэвид Торо - Вздохи эоловой арфы

Aeolian harp sighs

                   There lowly dale, vozbranny us
                   None of the deaths was not there,
                   None of us, none of those
                   Who is doomed to work and sin.
                   
                   There valor first born,
                   Than local world she came,
                   Acts there all our
                   Return to genuine glory.
                   
                   There adolescence and true passion,
                   Well holy power of poetry
                   In the words do not feel the need -
                   Sings space in every way.
                   
                   And if your hearing refined by,
                   You be distinguished curfew,
                   Liyuschiysya out to us,
                   Whose souls heed heaven.