Accompanied recitative
In Hebe's gardens what God guides my steps;
It is Cupid! I see him, [and] he is [so] sweet to me [that] I follow him;
He banishes reason from these happy climates.
Mortals! it is a pleasure to live
Where reason does not flee from us.

Aria
Harsh wisdom,
Make old age
Respect your laws;
Suffer [from] youth's
Sweetest laws.

Why [do] your maxims,
Make crimes
Of tender pleasures!
Do not [let] yourself be afraid any longer,
Cease constraining
Your ardent desires.

Far from protecting them,
In our springtime,
Let us understand
What it is to be wise,
To put to use
These happy moments.

Recitative
But it is too much [to] defer, we enter into these bocages;
[A] rich sojourn of pleasures,
These living flowers, this green foliage
Have never felt the insults of winter.

Accompanied recitative
How you delight the birds, the friendly zephyrs,
Love and lovers, beneath these charming shades;
Upon a brilliant throne of Flowers,
The Goddess of youth
With these divine accents arouses all hearts
To surrender to tenderness.

Aria
Give the Springtime of your days
To play, to pleasures, to Love.

The waters in a rapid race
Go by a thousand diverse paths
Without hope of seeing their source again,
Disappearing within the breast of the seas;
Thus our youth passes,
Our days do not cease flowing;
Nothing could be able to bring them back
When winter has taken their place.

Give the Springtime of your days
To play, to pleasures, to Love.

The sun extinguishes its flame each day
In the breast of the wave, 
And to in order to be reborn in the eyes of the world
It reignites, still more lovely.
But while upon the dark banks
The terrible Fate leads us;
Nothing could disperse the shadows
Of an eternal and sad night.

Donnez le Printemps de vos jours,
Aux jeux, aux plaisirs, aux Amours.

Recitative

It is thus that in the happiest place in the world
Hebe makes [everyone] hear its sounds;
Come, let [everyone] respond to her,
Let us follow her charming lessons.
With these flowers let us crown our heads,
Let us laugh, sing, love, and celebrate her feasts,
Let us hasten… But oh heaven! what fatal change.
Everything disappears in a moment.
A sad memory is all which remains to me.
Alas! it is the gloomy image of our beautiful days;
It was nothing but a spell.

Arietta

Cupid, like a pleasant illusion,
Reigns in the young season;
Soon [age] and reason
Come to dispel this lie.

He flies away like a Zephyr;
As soon as old age arrives
We realize that pleasure
Is nothing but a fleeting shadow.

Cupid like a pleasant illusion...