Audiotour Kutna Hora

St. Barbara's Cathedral is in an empty autumn slumber,

And the wind plays with fallen leaves in the old streets.

In the narrow streets the light of the lanterns wavers anxiously.

The figures of men walk their long way unheard.

They are in white clothes, carrying pickaxes on their shoulders,

The miners sullenly wander to the small gap in the mine.

Their faces are shadowed with gloomy thoughts, their hearts and souls are sad,

They've got children and families at home, and maybe they'll go up on a plank.

And huddled in the narrow face, under the dim flame of torches,

They build slabs in the dust without rest, without songs or words.

And all for the purpose of coins, under the frantic clatter of hammers,

to gleam in the streak of dawn and fall to the bottom of the chests.

And again the tycoons live in the glittering splendor of the day,

without seeing picks and shovels in the hands of weakened men.

But the Sedlec Ossuary has leveled them all, and the remains lie in a heap,

who were loved and crushed by life: the tycoon and the miner.