I went a-walking through the field
Upon a winter's day:
Ah, how the birdlets freeze!
What happened to their music-making
  That gladdens every heart?

And barely had the hasty word
Flown from my lips,
Lo -- in the very same hour
In the desolate wintry vale
  The most beautiful springtime was already blossoming!

The manifold birdlets begin
To sing brightly;
The lark swings itself upward,
Wishing to rise all the way to Heaven,
  And the bare woods stand in verdure!

And a thousand blossoms burst
Forth from every branch;
The brooklets flow so clearly,
And upon their borders there shoot up
  Jauntily the most beautiful flowers!

And if your tongues find 
This all too wondrous, --
Know: he who sang this song,
In whom it sounded forth in freshness,
  He became a bridegroom yesterday!