Come into the clearing, friend

Come into the clearing, friend, though little shines

here below today, and tightly the heavens enclose us.

It is dim today, the alleys are slumbering.

It seems to be a leaden time.

And our singing is impotent, but it belongs to life.

After all, several sparrows will arrive

Before it is summer in the country.

May the carpenter place the motto on the rooftop:

We have done our part, as best we could.