| Lyrics: | 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." |
