O church bell of my village, Each of your plaintive tolls Filling the calm evening Rings inside my soul. And your ringing is so slow, So as if life made you sad, That already your first clang Seems like a repeated sound. However closely you touch me When I pass by, always drifting, You are to me like a dream— In my soul your ringing is distant. With every one of your clangs Resounding across the sky, I feel the past farther away, I feel nostalgia close by.
