April

Do you not smell in the air

the perfume that Spring breathes out?

Do you not hear in your soul

the sound of a new, enticing voice?

It's April! It's the season of love!

Come, lovely one,

to the flowery meadow!

Your foot will tread among violets,

you will wear roses and bluebells,

and the white butterflies

will flutter around your black hair.

It's April! It's the season of love!

Please come, my lovely one,

to the flowery meadow!