A gust of wind rushes in,
From where? From where?
Hear how it rustles in the treetops,
The pines! The pines!
Just an intense sound! – then quiet again
And the frost flutters downward.
What was that, my dear valley, what was that?
Today, for the very first time
Will your domain
Proclaim the arrival of Spring,
Soon storms will roar and howl mightily,
And Spring, Spring shall awaken.

A beam of light flames bright across the sky,
From where? From where?
See how the tree tops glisten
The pines! The pines!
Only a sudden flash! – then darkness again
And the heavens gaze sadly downward.
What was that, my dear valley, what was that?
Today, for the very first time
Will your domain
Proclaim the arrival of Spring,
Soon the sun will gleam and dazzle mightily,
And Spring, Spring shall awaken.

The snow is already retreating to the mountains
From there, from there,
Deep black, the winter calls defiance
To the pines, the pines.
Only a little more time! – Birdsong
Again will ring happy and joyfully.
Best wishes, my dear valley, best wishes!
Today, for the very first time
Will your domain
Proclaim the arrival of Spring,
Soon the streams will gush and foam mightily,
And Spring, Spring shall awaken.

Now the willows are beginning to bloom,
  Rejoice, my heart!
A birdlet is already twittering now and then,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And though it not be the lovely springtime yet
With its beautiful green and its blossoms bright,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!

White-flecked, the brooklets are rushing down into the valley,
  Rejoice, my heart!
The sun’s beams are smiling much more bravely already,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And though in the furrows snow may yet lie,
And though frost might still injure the springtime,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!

Truly, already I felt a balmy breeze,
  Rejoice, my heart!
On the bank a floweret nods cleverly,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And although ice be still floating upon the lakes,
And springtime wisely yet waits to appear,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!

The snow has disappeared, winter is gone.
  Come forth, ye flowers, come forth!
Spring snowflakes and violets in the thorny hedge,
Speedwell and primulas along the meadow path,
  Come forth, ye flowers, come forth!

The sky smiles down so bluely,
  Come out, ye buds, come out!
The breezes blow so beautifully and warmly,
And down along the brook the meadow grows green,
  Come out, ye blossoms, come out!

Springtime wishes to come quite soon, quite soon,
  Come hither, ye birds, come hither!
Come, sing to spring that it rings out and echoes,
And build your nests in the airy woods,
  Come hither, ye birds, come hither!

Arise! be happy with them, you human child,
  Away, ye worries, away!
Out of the house quickly, quickly,
And sing with the merry March wind:
  Away, ye worries, away!

Fresh, dewy summer morning,
Oh, how refreshingly your face smiles upon me!
Still concealed deep within the soughing forest,
The birds have already woken with rejoicing.

From far away in the moss, how the roses' scent rises,
How at the forest’s edge the scent of the flowers of the meadow!
And how teasingly the breezes caress
The golden haulms, how the dew sparkles!

Ah, and how the green shines from out of the valley,
How the river sparkles from out of the rocky chasm!
How the heights shimmer in the rosy beams,
Beautifully shrouded by the blue air!

And high up in the white swarming mass
The last little sheep upon the heavens
Are hastily scudding away before the merry breeze
Before they vanish into the blue. --

Refreshing coolness, radiant shimmer,
Sink and twinkle into my heart,
And from the song, you flickering dew,
Shine in a sparkling reflection!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your greenery?
Is it your secret darkness?
Your colourful blooming?
The mad sparkling of the sun?
  That makes me ever anew and always
  Stand rapt in your magic, drunk with bliss.
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your scents?
Is it the surging of your bushes?
The cool air,
Your high cathedrals?
  That again and again I am drawn
  Down to you, beloved.
    Who may tell,
    Who may ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your singing?
Is it the whirling of your firs?
Your anxious lamentation?
The roaring of the old oaks?
  That homesickness immediately assails me,
  When I, oh lovely one, must leave you.
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it majesty?
Is it homely, comforting being
That wafts through you,
That makes you so exquisite?
  That the singer’s songs must again and again
  Praise you rejoicingly!
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

  Away over the hills
The clouds gently pass,
To dissolve there
Softly in the splendour of evening,
  Oh how beautifully, how peacefully and beautifully
Do they travel along the heavenly heights!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And serene, heavenly peace as well.

  Over the meadows, lo,
The birdlets are whirring swiftly!
They are seeking the softness of the nest
Deep in the blossoming bush.
  Oh how beautifully along the forest
Their evening song is sounding and resounding!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And joyful, quiet trust as well.

  Above on the heavens now
A little star is already twinkling,
As if it had harkened from afar --
Hark -- to the sound of the bell.
  Oh how beautifully, so mildly and beautifully
It laughs down from the blue heights!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And blissful, blithe hope as well.

How beautifully, how beautifully you wish to adorn yourself,
My dear valley, so late in the year!
Still to gladden my heart with lovely green,
Even with delicate springtime flowers!
  I sense it: so beautiful, my valley,
  You are for the last time this year!

Down from the red tree a birdlet
Sings forgotten songs again,
And, oh! how the sun sends down
Its clearest radiance from the sky!
  Its mild beam would not smile so mildly,
  If it were not for the last time this year!

So balmily and beautifully the winds blow,
And old dreams waken,
But see, how from the linden tree yonder
Leaf upon leaf falls with a quiet “alas”!
  How soon, how soon everything shall be bare,
  But it is beautiful yet this last time!

I dream on, dream on the lovely dreams
With you, my valley, and trust in God,
Though the storm tears through all the trees,
My joyful spirit shall not ridiculed!
  I shall sing on in the misery of winter:
  How beautiful it was that last time!

  Brightly through leafless trees
The gleam of the golden stars breaks.
Ah, their radiance no longer weaves
Itself into any springtime dreams!
  Bliss upon bliss perished in the valley,
Everything is desolate and mute and bare!
  All the more beautifully the night wishes
To gaze down from heaven
Upon the poor, poor meadows
And wishes to unfurl all its glory.

  Deeply veiled by eerie mists
Lie the deepest depths of the valley,
The stream’s torrent proclaims only in muffled form
Its deathly sad lament.
  But see the circle of mountains
Suddenly there in the moon’s radiance!
  And still ever more deeply downward
The silvery shimmer wishes to flow,
And, with its most beautiful light, 
Wishes to shower with doubled opulence the grave of spring.

  No, oh no! never despair;
Praise the hand of your God,
When the radiance of many a happiness
Painfully vanished for you, soul!
  You will see the glory of Heaven 
All the more clearly in the night of pain,
  And your place on earth here
Shall be transfigured into a heaven,
So that you may joyfully become aware
How God’s benevolence is confirmed.

  Weary unto death
The last leaf abides upon the tree;
The joy and sorrow of the others has long
Been compassionately covered by the deep, deep snow.

  Full of torment
It has stayed behind all alone;
And it sighs:  Oh could I only rest too,
Ah, what shall I do here yet in solitude!

  Round about me
The world is so spookily silent!
And I am only the more reminded by the radiance
Of the winter sun how utterly forsaken I am!

  Breath of death!
Come, remember me as well!
Farewell, you lovely spring breezes,
May a new generation see spring then!

  And from the tree
The leaf sinks as if in a dream,
Quietly like a final breath, --
Soon the storm blows it away in wild flight.

Resound briskly over the snowy field, my song,
Along through the silence of the slumbering valley!
No bird sings any longer.
No brooklet tinkles any longer.
Ring out, therefore, and sound all the more loudly, my song,
In defiance of the icy wind that rises up against you;
Pulse all the more audaciously, all the more briskly, my courage,
Course and surge all the more fervently, my blood!

The heights shimmer and glitter in the sunshine,
And down below, the firs, how lovely, how lovely!
No little branch stirs,
Moved by the wind.
Hasten all the more quickly and stride, my foot,
Though the squeaking of your steps be heard far and wide!
Ha! though the cold may penetrate your very bones,
It can never enter into your happy heart!

And the sky above, oh look, oh look!
The crystalline blue is almost transparent!
Only the most delicate scent 
In the golden air.
Thus must my eyes sparkle so joyfully,
Thus clear and brisk shall it be in my heart,
Thus shall my song echo from the heights:
Not springtime alone, winter, too, is beautiful!