English
Français (French)
Español (Spanish)
Português (Portuguese)
Italian (Italiano)
Svenska (Swedish)
Deutsch (German)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
हिंदी (Hindi)
Pусский (Russian)
Dansk (Danish)
বাংলা (Bengali)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Eestlane (Estonian)
ελληνικά (Greek)
čeština (Czech)
Polish (Polski)
Hrvatski (Croatian)
Română (Romanian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
한국어, 조선어 (Korean)
Türkçe (Turkish)
中文 (Chinese)
Suomi (Finnish)
српски језик (Serbian)
Українська мова (Ukrainian)
norsk språk (Norwegian)
српски језик (Hebrew)
schweizerdeutsche sprache (Swiss-German)
नेपाली (Nepali)
ภาษาไทย (Siamese)
Lingua Latina (Latin)
ᱥᱟᱱᱛᱟᱞᱤ (Santali)
日本語 (Japanese)
wrenbyrd's sitater
Thomas Gray
- Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, the lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, the plowman homeward plods his weary way, and leaves the world to darkness and to me.