Ye migrating birds in the air,
In the radiance of the ether, in the scent of the sun,
In the blue waves of the heavens,
I greet you as comrades!
I, too, am a migrating bird,
I am carried by a fresh breeze of life,
And the gift of my singing
Is my dearest possession.

No coinage is collecting rust in my money bag,
Like me, it runs through the whole world.
To fly through the entire world
Is better than to lie around.
The shiny and the brisk,
I gladly do not begrudge the years of wandering,
With everything else, it must
Immediately wander onward again.

Where a full goblet beckons to me –
I would like to see him, who would make me
Not drink the gift from God
With utter happiness!
Grasp the moment firmly!
That is my maxim, that is my fate.
I hate that which is dusty,
I only believe in that which is fresh!

[Whitsun]1 has come,
Spreading green up hill and down dale,
Now take up in your hand
Your hat and walking staff!
Now garland yourselves with wildflowers,
Adorn yourselves radiantly,
Sing and celebrate to the best of your ability
The May-festival of spring!

Green branches stand resplendent
Joyfully in front of every door,
The rosy cheeks of the maidens
Peek out listening.
A springtime cry comes admonishingly,
Dear hearts dreamingly anticipate
Secretly [under the May-tree]2, 
Their May-dream.

Joyful wanderer's greetings,
Fly forth before me!
Light feet, carry me
[At night to]3 the forest house!
Leaves and branches, cover me,
Until in the morning I am wakened
By that which also created my slumber song,
The call of the nightingale!

[Whitsun]1 has come,
Golden time of blossoming!
Dissolved in radiance round about
The earth lies far and wide.
[Love]4 and joy renew themselves,
[Earth]5 and heaven rejoice
At the happiest enjoyment
Of [youth, greeting,] and kiss!

It was at Aßmannshausen
On the banks of the green Rhine;
I entered briskly and light-heartedly
Through the old gate.
  At Aßmannshausen there grows a wine,
  I thought that it must be the best there is,
  The wine of Aßmannshausen.

And when I came to Niederwald,
I saw Rüdesheim;
It was so merry there and so lovely
That I felt at home.
  At Rüdesheim there grows a wine,
  I thought that it must be the best there is,
  The wine of Rüdesheim.

And onward I went to Geisenheim,
There I would gladly have built my abode.
But already Johannisberg rose radiantly --
Oh star above all stars!
  Yes, console yourself, you poor wretch,
  Johannisberger wine is only poured out
  For the high and mighty!

Now tell me this, is it just
On the part of the high and mighty crew
That they keep the best wine of all
From the thirsty throat?
  The best that grows in all the land,
  To lock it up as if it were enchanted --
  Ah, how that angered me!

And if you do not give of the best,
The good remains to us still,
The better sort does not hesitate,
The best shall nevertheless come to us!
  Drink, therefore, until there isn't a drop left;
  Soon our thirst shall force the best hither,
  And shall break the yoke of the wine barrel! --