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the merry face of spring
turns to the world,
sharp winter
now flees, vanquished;
bedecked in various colours
flora reigns,
the harmony of the woods
praises her in song. ah!
lying in flora’s lap
phoebus once more
smiles, now covered
in many-coloured flowers,
zephyr breathes nectar
scented breezes.
let us rush to compete
for love’s prize. ah!
in harp-like tones sings
the sweet nightingale,
with many flowers
the joyous meadows are laughing,
a flock of birds rises up
through the pleasant forests,
the chorus of maidens