The tower straightens its silver stone back once more
and I have not to ask whom the bell tolls for.
The flowers wilt, 'ere it tis the last time I am sure
And they wilt because they know whom the bell tolls for.
Innocence is broken into the silence that now roars
And it is from that roar, that i know whom the bell tolls for.
Ring on, and sing my life as what was never wore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem