English translations of Drei Lieder für vierstimmigen Männerchor, opus 36

In front of the tavern To the White Swan,
Drinking wine, there once sat
Lightheartedly two carousing companions,
Talking of this and talking of that.
Upon the little bench beside the stone wall
There stood a glass; the glass was empty,
And by it, in mute sorrow,
Sat brother Straubinger.

The first one spoke: "If I had 
A wish to make, I would wish 
That in the broad bed of the Danube
Every little pebble were gold,
And all of the pebbles would have to be
Paid out to me and be my own. --
Brother of mine, in this case,
Half of them would be yours."

The second one spoke: "My debts
I could soon pay,
If every leaf in the Vienna Woods
Were a bank-note of a thousand guilders,
And the rest, I am willing to swear it
Upon the holy body of the Lord,
Shall be divided in half and belong to you. --
Brother of mine, I do it gladly."

Straubinger in his corner
Listened to them and pondered,
Upon his walking staff he propped
His stubbly chin and spoke,
Spoke and his voice rumbled 
Into his empty glass:
"If I were to make a wish,
It would be for a half-measure of wine."

Thus spoke the street-smart chap[,]
Again he sat mute and immovable,
And the others said quietly:
"Brother of mine, you are fool!"
Then a cry directed toward the bar could be heard:
"Hey there, barkeeper, come here,
Give to Straubinger a full measure,
He who made the cleverest wish!"

The dear snowdrops
Arise from the melting ice
And shake their little skirts,
Half green and half white.
The oaks are creaking,
Freed, the brook flows,
Coldness wishes to depart,
Spring awakes!

Mother Sibyl
Opens the sliding window
And, through her glasses,
She gazes up toward the gable.
Two little cats who are in love
Creep over the roof,
Coldness wishes to depart,
Spring awakes!

Who comes dancing along there
Wearing decorations on her shoes?
There is a tripping and a wagging
And a giggling at me.
A prophetic sign,
Heartened I follow,
Coldness wishes to depart,
Spring awakes!

   Now let us valiantly break
   The necks of the bottles of Rhine-wine
   And fill with golden streams
   The hollows of the crystal goblets.
   Arise from the table
   And stand in rank and file
   And sing the ever-new,
   Ancient carousing song:
Zip, zap, into the cellar hole,
Everything must be drunk up!

   The man who thought of this verse
   Was a devout knight,
   Who preferred to sit
   By full casks rather than by the water-well,
   And when the last guilder
   Had taken leave of his moneybag,
   He gaily went into debt
   And sang his old song:
Zip, zap, into the cellar hole,
Everything must be drunk up!