Adorn your locks with fragrant wreaths
  And follow joyful happy urges,
Greet Spring with cheerful dances,
  The victor, who conquered all in love.

Winter threatens him with spine-chilling cold,
  Summer tracks him with flaming spear,
But he glides away under the blue tides
  Carefree and smiling on fragrances.

        And the faithful earth
        With a loving gesture
            hurries on towards him, 
            It lifts and stirs
From itself a thousand forces in its breat,
  And proclaims the holy pleasure of love.

        The spring's sources trickle
        And buds swell,
            Flowers appear
            And in the groves
Sings Philomel the nightingale from deep in her chest
  And proclaims the holy pleasure of love.

Therefore adorn your locks with bridal wreaths,
  From where vital forces in your breast can be heard,
And honor the victor in joyous dances,
  who conquers all through creative love.