Spring has arrived merrily
the birds hail her with happy song;
meanwhile, at the breath of Zephyrs
the streams flow with sweet murmur;
Thunder and lightning, chosen to proclaim her
come covering the sky with a black mantle;
when these fall silent, the little birds
return once more to their melodious song;

Springtime is upon us.
The birds celebrate her return with festive song,
and murmuring streams
are softly caressed by the breezes.
Thunderstorms, those heralds of Spring,
roar, casting their dark mantle over heaven,
Then they die away to silence, and the birds take
up their charming songs once more.

And so, on the pleasant, flowery meadow,
to the welcome murmuring of fronds and trees
the goatherd sleeps with his trusty dog beside him.

On the flower-strewn meadow,
with leafy branches rustling overhead,
the goat-herd sleeps, his faithful dog beside him.

To the festive sound of a shepherd’s bagpipe
nymphs and shepherds dance beneath the beloved roof
at the joyful appearance of spring.

Led by the festive sound of rustic bagpipes,
nymphs and shepherds lightly dance
beneath the brilliant canopy of spring.