The merry face of spring

The merry face of spring

turns to the world,
sharp winter
now flees, vanquished;
bedecked in various colors
Flora reigns,
the harmony of the woods
praises her in song. Ah!

Lying in Flora's lap

Phoebus once more
smiles, now covered
in many-colored flowers,
Zephyr breathes nectarspirans
scented breezes.
Let us rush to compete
for love's prize. Ah!

In harp-like tones sings

the sweet nightingale,
with many flowers
the joyous meadows are laughing,
a flock of birds rises up
through the pleasant forests,
the chorus of maidens
already promises a thousand joys. Ah!

Carmina Burana