Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125, 4th Movement (English translation) Ludwig van Beethoven

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Oh friends, not these tones!
Rather, let us raise our voices in more pleasing
And more joyful sounds!
Joy! (Joy!)
Joy! (Joy!)

Joy, beautiful spark of divinity
Daughter of Elysium
We enter, drunk with fire
Into your sanctuary, heavenly (daughter)!
Your magic reunites
What custom strictly divided
All men become brothers
Where your gentle wing rests

Whoever has had the great fortune
To be a friend's friend
Whoever has won a devoted wife
Join in our jubilation!
Indeed, whoever can call even one soul
His own on this earth!
And whoever was never able to, must creep
Tearfully away from this band!

Joy all creatures drink
At the breasts of nature;
All good, all bad
Follow her trail of roses
Kisses she gave us, and wine
A friend, proved in death;
Pleasure was given to the worm
And the cherub stands before God
Before God!