The speaker is dead (The bells are ringing at noon)

The bells are ringing at noon, ; Half past eleven, ; The executioner says: Imre Bogár ; Stand up on the chair! ; ; He stood up on the chair, ; He looks up at the sky. ; – Oh, my God, but so much robbery, ; Now I remember. ; ; – I killed a hussar, ; For a beautiful gray horse, ; I threw him into the Tisza, ; For his thirty forints. ; ; I didn’t take him into the Tisza, ; I put him on the bank, ; A young fisherman went there, ; He put him in a sleeping bag. ; ; His mother went there, ; She calls out, but he doesn’t hear her: ; – Get up, my son, my dear son, ; Fall on my shoulder. ; ; – I can’t get up, ; Because I’m still dead, ; My boots with brass spurs, ; My feet are frozen. ; ; His father went there, ; Kelti but he doesn't hear: ; – Get up my son, my dear son, ; Fall on my shoulder. ; ; – I can't get up, ; Because I'm already dead. ; My beautiful black curly hair, ; Is frozen on my shoulder. ; ; His dove went there, ; Kelti, he hears: ; – Get up my baby, my dear baby, ; Fall on my shoulder. ; ; – I can get up now, ; I'm not yet dead, ; My lover, my faithful lover, ; My chest held it up.