急求米尔顿《夜莺》合唱曲英文歌词！！！！！

急求米尔顿《夜莺》合唱曲英文歌词！！！！！词：米尔顿，曲：布特勒

John Milton. (1608–1674). Complete Poems.

Sonnet to the Nightingale

O NIGHTINGALE that on yon blooming spray

Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,

Thou with fresh hopes the Lover’s heart dost fill,

While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,

First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill,

Portend success in love. O if Jove’s will

Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,

Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate

Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh;

As thou from year to year hast sung too late

For my relief, yet had’st no reason why.

Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate,

Both them I serve, and of their train am I.

The Nightingale by Petras Tsvirka A detachment of German soldiers entered the heap of ashes that had once been a Russian village. On a cart pulling a field-kitchen behind it, sat a tired-looking lieutenant. Evidently he was looking for something, for his eyes moved again and again from the map on his knees to the ruins of the village. There was not a soul to be seen. At the far end of the village, the road forked. One path led to the fields and the other turned sharply towards the forest. Here the lieutenant gave the order to halt. He jumped down from the cart and carefully examined the place through his field-glasses. The soldiers stood silently watching him. Suddenly the silence was broken by the call of a nightingale close at hand. The Germans began to look for the bird in the bushes. Then they saw a boy of about thirteen lying in the grass at the side of the road with his feet in the ditch. He wore a green jacket and no hat. He was busy scraping a stick with a pocket-knife. "Hey, come here, you!" called the lieutenant. The boy quickly put his knife in his pocket and approached the officer. "Show it to me!" said the German. The boy took a little birchwood whistle out of his mouth and handed it to the officer with a smile. "It's well made, my boy, well made." For a second there was a smile on his unpleasant face. "Who taught you to whistle like that?" "No one, sir. I learned it myself. I can make the cuckoo's call too." And he suited the action to the word. Then he put the whistle back in his mouth and again the clear sweet trill of the nightingale was heard. "Are you the only one in the village?" asked the lieutenant, raising his field-glasses. "How the only one? There are lots of birds here -- sparrows and crows, and nightingales, and cuckoos. Sure I'm not the only one here." 'Idiot!" shouted the fascist officer angrily. "Are there people here?" "People? There haven't been any people here since the beginning of the war," answered the boy, not at all afraid. "When the shooting began and the village was burned down, everyone began to shout: "The wild animals are coming!" and ran away. "And why didn't you run away?" "I wanted to see the wild animals. Once I went to town and a man there was showing a cat as big as a calf for 50 kopeks." "Weak-minded," said the officer in German, turning towards his men. "Do you know the way to Surmantas? That's what the place is called, isn't it?" "Why, sure I do," answered the boy confidently. "I went there with Uncle Yuri to catch fish. The fish there can swallow a goose, they're so big