Night has already fallen,
the organ is playing, the village is sleeping,
only the walls of the old church with arched ceiling hear the music.
From the loft Bach can be heard,
the arches drown in the shadows,
the organist is the son of the cantor of the church.
When all of the lights in the region
shut their eyes,
he sneaks in his Sunday suit it the silent church.
And in the summer night
fugue is played beautifully.
He is going to be a cantor, even though he only plays for himself.
Refrain:
If once he could
play to others like this,
It's still a dream, but it's inspiring.
When the organ plays,
and the bells are humming,
they can tell what he wished for.
Refrain2:
Again in Sunday
father has the role of th cantor,
There's a wedding and the blare of the music is heard everywhere.
The boy in his dreams
hears a choir singing
and the melody could reach the heaven.
He is still young,
but he is waiting for time,
when people gather from all over the world to listen to him.
Oh, how the old vaults echo
with glory.
He wishes that the fugue will always sound just as beautiful.
Refrain
Refrain2