Loudly and sadly, one stroke on another, <br />Sang the bell to the slumbering world... <br />Just like the tocsin when fire is approaching, <br />Long and loudly it pealed. <br /> <br />Sang now with threats, with persuasive endearment, – <br />Trembling, it sobbed, with a bitter complaint – <br />Thunder pursuing, or story from childhood – <br />Into the silent darkness it fell. <br /> <br />Promise it hinted of man's resurrection, <br />Sounded the sorrowful tidings of death, – <br />Wilderness fervor cried out in darkness, – <br />Thirst for forgiveness, revenge... <br /> <br />Sang in the night, and the holiday morning, <br />Laughed with the storm, and in silence it wept; <br />Only an echo sang back from the forest – <br />Not from the slumbering soul. <br /> <br />Just like the tocsin when fire is approaching <br />Sang the bell to a world without heed... <br />Loudly and sadly, one stroke on another, <br />Vainly it pealed about God.<br /><br />Jurgis Baltrušaitis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bell-13/
