Tim Blickhan - There will come soft rains - текст песни (слова)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
 And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
 And frogs in the pool singing at night,
 And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
 Robins will wear their feathery fire,
 Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
 And not one will know of the war, not one
 Will care at last when it is done.
 Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
 If mankind perished utterly;
 And spring herself when she woke at dawn
 Would scarcely know that we were gone.