Whose heart does not laugh when the land,
The land that gave birth to him, burgeons in green,
The land to which with heart and hand 
He has sworn his love!
  Oh, even the oldest grows young then,
How a glow emanates from his gaze!
He rejoices and must sent a Gloria
Briskly up toward heaven!

  Whose heart does not laugh when he sees
His old friend standing at his side,
Who, no matter how quickly the years pass,
Was never missing as companion!
  Oh, even the oldest grows young then,
When he thinks of distant days:
For faithfulness glows more freshly
Than the rose by the grove!

  Ha! ye who stand in the strength of youth
And sing as we sang!
However much time rips away the hours,
In one thing it had no success:
  For even the oldest one remains young, ha!
And brisk in all his drive:
Oh, all ye far and near, inscribe it on your heart:
Remain young as we have!

  Storm from the north, come! and quickly defoliate the trees,
All the flowers have wilted already,
Ah, the last dreams are fleeing,
The last tones are dying away!
  Storm from the north, come! and roar into it all,
Make an end of the pain of the death!

  Storm from the north, come! break into he silent dread,
Break into it with your lamenting sound,
So that we must no longer see
Unmourned the dead bride!
  Storm from the north, come! why do you still hesitate?
Break, ah break the silence, break it!

  Storm from the north, come! and cover the terror of death
Soon with shining snow,
If you can no longer waken the meadows,
At least conceal their pain with compassion!
  Storm from the north, come! and through all the dread,
Comfort us by letting us see the sky!