I skovens dybe, stille ro,
hvor sangerhære bo,
hvor sjælen lytted mangen gang
til fuglens glade sang,
der er idyllisk stille fred
i skovens ensomhed,
og hjertets længsler tie her,
hvor fred og hvile er.
Hør landsbyklokken lyder ned,
bebuder aftenfred,
småfuglen, før den går til blund,
end kvidrer lidt en stund.
I mosen kvækker højt en frø,
stærkt damper mark og sø,
nu klokken tier, - aftnens fred
sig stille sænker ned.
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I forest depths where quiet reigns
in songbirds’ prized domains,
where troubled soul can listen long
to joyous warbling song,
there is idyllic peacefulness
within the forest’s loneliness
and all heart’s longings quite subside
where rest and peace reside.
Hear how the village bell rings clear,
announcing evening’s near,
small birds, before they go to sleep
give one last final cheep.
A frog from bogland croaks out loud,
field, lake wear steamy shroud,
and evening peace, when bell’s chime ends,
now tranquilly descends.
Try listening to Christ Minh Doky!
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