Huub de Lange - 4 Romantic Poems The daylight is dying - текст песни (слова)

The daylight is dying
  Away in the west,
  The wild birds are flying
  in silence to rest;
  In leafage and frondage
  Where shadows are deep,
  They pass to its bondage--
  The kingdom of sleep
  And watched in their sleeping
  By stars in the height,
  They rest in your keeping,
  O wonderful night.
  When night doth her glories
  Of starshine unfold,
  'Tis then that the stories
  Of bush-land are told.
  
 Unnumbered I told them
  In memories bright,
  But who could unfold them,
  Or read them aright?
  Beyond all denials
  The stars in their glories,
  The breeze in the myalls,
  Are part of these stories.
  
 The waving of grasses,
  The song of the river
  That sings as it passes
  For ever and ever,
  The hobble-chains' rattle,
  The calling of birds,
  The lowing of cattle
  Must blend with the words.
  
 Without these, indeed you
  Would find it ere long,
  As though I should read you
  The words of a song
  That lamely would linger
  When lacking the rune,
  The voice of a singer,
  The lilt of the tune.
  
 But as one halk-bearing
  An old-time refrain,
  With memory clearing,
  Recalls it again,
  These tales roughly wrought of
 The Bush and its ways,
  May call back a thought of
  The wandering days;
  And, blending with each
  In the memories that throng
 There haply shall reach
  You some echo of song.