Текст песни Жанна Бичевская - 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 the land of their own,
Where I loved where his father's house,
And like me, with him ever simple,
They listened to the sound of the last time!

Not for me mature bright days
Spring deceiving me!
And how many there are now alive
Then cheerful young!
And their strong burial sleep;
I can not hear them curfew.

Lay me in the earth, and crude!
Chant unyvny me
In the valley of the wind will spread;
Another singer will take place on it,
And it is not I, but it will
Thoughtfully sing curfew!