Translation:Mondo kaj Koro/Sonorilludo

by Kálmán Kalocsay

In evening, in the dear, dolorous monotone,
Suddenly, here, begins the sounding of bells

With groaning stroke,

With trembling voice.

The blows begin to make a noise, to shake windows
And magic roaring begins to mildly flow.
Oh, bellsound, you're thunderlike
And yet tranquil, delighting and sweet!
Heartache fainted drowning
Suffocates. I call to the sounding bronze:

Oh swing the tongue

You, striking like thunder!

Oh, your great complaint

Ring through the land!

Oh complain to the source

Of the blood, reproach!

Oh, thunder the voice,

That should split the mountain!

Extinguish the fiery tongue

Of the hating sense,

Of the blindly burning

Wanted the blood.

Attain, o song,

The dear profoundity

To bind up the wound

Which bled for vanity.

Oh bewitch the sense

Indulgantly rockingly,

And with rolling tears

Dissolve the repentance!

Oh ringing of songs!

You should establish the circle:

You should melt the world

In a circle of lovers!

Heart burn, voice lull, raise me, lower me,
With the flame of the flagrant love I awaken:
That red flames stop-flowing through the lands,
Cheeks begin to redden in fraternal receiving,
And brotherly, in a solemn circle, through the world
The wave of the song of Understanding begins to bellow...

But, oh woe!, trembling,

For the last time groaningly,

With dying groan the bronze sound fades away,
And sad monotone captures me again...