On the festive occasion in which we joyfully engage today,
May my poor song sound tremblingly as well!
To be sure, like aether it shall dissipate in a breath,
But my love shall remain, [my love] that blooms eternally!
Just as the ever-green laurel wreaths
That gloriously twine themselves about your artist-brow.
That as eternally as the eternal stars of the musical arts,
Also shall bloom eternally to your eternal fame!

Today it is a full one and eighty years
Since gracious Heaven gave us you.
Oh, may Heaven long, long yet keep you,
Oh, may the Mighty One who directs the hearts of mankind
Also preserve your love for us in future,
As it has proven itself faithfully to us up to now.
And that the river of time may never cause it to grow old,
Like the sun that always returns!

The loveliest blossoms in the realm of musical sounds, --
You have plucked them during the course of fifty years;
Therefore, oh worthiest sun of the Muses, 
Your breast was decorated by your king.
But that which we, your faithful children, bring you,
That, dear one! no king can give you.
We wish to clasp you firmly and fervently,
And to dedicate our hearts to you full of love!

Let me encircle your honourable brow with wreaths! --
Let me kiss your dear, precious hand!
See how the tears shine in my eyes --
That is love's most beautiful pledge.
I can find no words to tell you
Of that which trembles, deeply moved, within my bosom!
Come to my heart and feel by its beating
How it quakes in a blaze of love for you!