Balmy airs approach, blue and flowing

Balmy airs approach, blue and flowing,

Spring, spring it soon shall be!

Toward the woods horn sounds are aimed,

Proudly the lights of the eyes shimmer,

And that confusion, festive and colorful,

Becomes a magic wild river

Into the pretty world below

The streams' greeting beckons you.

And I desire not my safety!

The wind drives me far from you,

I want to go on the stream,

Blessedly blinded by the radiance.

A thousand voices strongly beckoning,

Highly Aurora's flames sway:

Ever onward, I dare not ask

Where the journey will come to an end.