Winter is over, the snow melts away,
The spring comes with gladness.
Sunshine falls warm on the young Hawthorn spray.
I walk with my sadness.
Waters once frozen now flow into the sea,
The rivers are roaring.
All that I am for the last time comes to be,
My dear heart is soaring.
Though I must pass, yet the clear voice of a bird,
Shall touch a newcomer.
He will rejoice in the songs that I have heard,
Of sunlight and summer.

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