Song-Bell

Ah, my native speech, my mother,
Ah word, thou great bell, singing ever,
Booming mighty,
Gleaming brightly,
From gold cast and
Forged from argent,
Thunder on, thou
Thunder on.

Ah, bell-ringer, sir, start ringing,
Smite the bell and set it swinging,
Ring with zest now,
Never resting,
Never tiring,
Drenched, perspiring,
Strike and ring, thou,
Strike and ring.

Ah, my brother, minstrel, singer,
In house and field set music ringing,
Where in anguish
The poor languish,
Hungry pining,
Unwashed dwining,
Relive thou
Their want, relieve.

Let string thunder and exile now
All pain and wrath, let people smile now;
With them ever,
Stranger never,
Clear and boldly,
With voice golden,
Join thou with them,
Join with them.

A.Harun