Tomorrow is the first of May
      Hurray!
That is why, so beautifully, so beautifully the mountain peaks
Glow and flame in the setting sun.
That is why the last little cloud has passed away,
That is why the roads and paths sparkle so cleanly
From the storms and rains of April,
That is why everything, everything wishes to adorn itself.
That is why all the meadows shine with such freshness,
That is why the birds sing with a loud sound,
So that their jubilant cry rings out widely:
Tomorrow is the first of May
      Hurray!

Tomorrow is the first of May
      Hurray!
That is why so many blossoms still burst open,
That is why the stream flows so rapidly,
That is why breezes blow so freshly through the valley
And send the sweetest scent to me,
That is why the forest is soughing freely and happily,
That is why my heart laughs so within my breast,
That is why I am moved so familiarly, so familiarly in my innermost being,
That is why as I wander I must sing so loudly
That my cry of jubilation resounds into the distance!
Tomorrow is the first of May
      Hurray!

  Dry the roads,
March wind!
Bless the pathways,
Violet scent!
  Tarry no longer, oh sunshine!
Springtime wishes to enter the land!

  Threaten away,
White heights!
The shimmer must flee
When the Föhn-wind blows!
  Rejoicing birds are already flying
High in the aether in defiance of the snow!

Only continue greening up,
Meadow and field!
Merrily continue
Greeting the world!
  Timid flowers! upon the broad plain
Only begin to bloom, all of you!

  Dry the roads,
March wind!
Bless the pathways,
Violet scent!
  Tarry no longer, oh sunshine!
Springtime wishes to enter the land!

  You splendid, bright blossoming tree,
Yes, if I could interpret your dream,
If I could understand the soughing of your branches,
Could understand what sweet words they are exchanging,
If I could understand what the violets 
Confess to each other secretly,
  Then I could sing it and utter it fully
  How rich, oh springtime, and how beautiful is your radiance!

  Forest birdlet, that which you sing beautifully,
Ye west winds, that which you wish to whisper,
If I could understand it, and, you bright brooklet,
That which your waves prattle merrily,
If it could be carried to me through the air
What the sun and the blue of heaven ask each other,
  Then I could sing it and utter it fully
  How rich, oh springtime, and how beautiful is your radiance!

  And if I could capture it in a song,
That which moves through my deepest heart,
If only my dream, my happiness, and my love
Did not remain buried in there,
If everything moved in the urgency of rejoicing
Through the world with rich resounding,
  Then I could sing it and utter it fully,
  How rich, oh springtime, and how beautiful is your radiance!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Dear birdlet
Upon the slender firs up there,
To praise the Lord undisturbed.
  If only I, too, could be so happy!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Bright, clear brooklet in the forest!
With melodically sweet singing
To penetrate unseen through the moss.
  If only I, too, could be so happy!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Fresh, red floweret in the forest!
With secret stillness to glow in the greenery,
To fade away then painlessly!
  If only I, too, could be so happy!

  It must be because it's Sunday
That every bush is now blossoming,
The air floats along in blueness,
The cloudlet gleams so beautifully!
  The birds must know it:
Today is the day of the Lord,
So that they are so assiduously and
Joyfully singing near and far!

The flowers must suspect it:
Oh, see how every one of them is listening!
The forest, too, wishes to remind you:
Hark, how it rushes and soughs!
  The wave flows so shimmeringly,
It, too, does not forget it!
And ah! how brightly the old snow
Sparkles in the sunlight!

  And everywhere a human is to be seen
Who wanders through the splendour
And greets the springtime meadows,
Ah! how his face smiles!
  And everyone today must anew
Sing a joyful song
With all the world around --
A song of God’s love and faithfulness!

Blue sky, clear breezes,
I greet you a thousand times,
And you first sweet scents,
And you golden sunbeam!
   Oh how my heart rejoices toward you,
   Lovely, lovely springtime, you!

Though you tarried long,
Finally, finally you have come after all;
And everything we dreamed while waiting
Has come to pass even more beautifully than we dreamed!
   In a trice, you make everything good,
   Lovely, lovely springtime, you!

Grow green, you meadows! you fields, adorn
Yourselves swiftly in praise of spring!
Foam, you brooks! sough, you forests!
Sing bright lays, you birds!
   Happily sing spring’s praises with us:
   Lovely, lovely springtime, you!

  And do you believe, little star, that your radiance
In the earliest morning hours
Is what makes me rejoice so happily
And sing from the bottom of my heart?

  And do you believe, birdlet, that your singing,
Which resounds toward me so freshly,
Is what makes my heart beat
With such wondrous power?

  And do you believe, little flower, that is is
Your sparkling and shimmering upon the green meadow
That makes my eyes shine
As brightly as the morning dew?

  You, to be sure, cannot understand
How happy are one's mind and spirit
When in the early morning
One travels to one's most beloved!

  Silver brooklet in the deep valley,
May God greet you many thousand times!
  Well, what is your sparkling asking me?
Well, what is your rushing telling me?
  Do you wish to remind me of her, of her?
But you know already that I shall never forget her, never!
  Brooklet, and if your source were to dry up,
My love, my love would nevertheless remain fresh and bright!

  You radiant little flower at the edge, you,
Only smile at me so impishly!
  Well, what is your shimmering asking me?
Well, what is your nodding saying to me?
  Do you wish to remind me of her, of her?
But you know already that I shall never forget her, never!
  Little flower, how soon is your radiance gone,
But ever faithful, but ever faithful my spirit remains eternally!

  Swirling bush in the cool depths,
Do not wound my joyful heart!
  Well, what is your soughing asking me?
Well, what is your verdure telling me?
  Do you wish to remind me of her, of her?
But you know already that I shall never forget her, never!
  If, my bush, your leaves may fall,
My love, it shall remain green well past the grave yet!

The winds lift their pinions,
The jubilation of springtime rings out:
Oh joy, to gaze into the heart
Of the forest from the flowery hill.

How every leaf is listening and whispering
And swaying for joy!
How the sun is smiling down
And does not grow tired of smiling!

How shyly the shadows of the clouds
Now fly hither in greeting,
And brush the tree-tops, and sway
Distantly and find no rest!

But I must rejoice and sing
Into your heart, burgeoning forest,
And must bring you my greetings
So that it echoes far down below.

  The blessing of the night already sounds more quietly
And wishes to fade away like the strains of a harp,
And softly and gently
Upon the pinions of the tones,
Hark! the blessing of the day has awakened.
  Thus between night and day,
  How heart and soul may rejoice!
  Morning stillness, to be blessedly alone,
  Blessedly alone with God!

  The last star upon the twilit blue is already
Sparkling more dully and wishes to dissolve,
From out of dark grey
The day wishes to come alight,
But night still lies upon chasm and meadow.
  Thus between night and day,
  How heart and soul may rejoice!
  Morning stillness, to be blessedly alone,
  Blessedly alone with God!

  Every sorrow still conceals itself
And every pain, as if they slumbered
Forever here,
As upon the eternal morning,
And as if they were never to return, never.
  Thus between night and day,
  How heart and soul may rejoice!
  Morning stillness, to be blessedly alone,
  Blessedly alone with God!