Here is the Spring passing by;

"Good day, weaver, good day!

My friend, lend me your chair,

I need it for a day.

I am he who cleanses

The woods, the meadows and the flowers.

Quickly, lend me your shuttle;

I am awaited elsewhere, you know."





Here is the Spring passing by;

"Good day, painter, good day!

Your labouring hand grows weary

As it makes a likeness of the day.

Quickly, lend me your palette,

your palette and your brush.

You will see the festive sky

Revitalised in my picture.





Here is the Spring passing by;

"Good day, maidens, good day!

Lend me your spindles, I implore you,

That I in my turn may work.

Under the arbours I promised

My wool to the nests round about.

I will tell you, o maidens,

the place where love also nestles."