Summer

	Woe to us, Adam's feeble progeny,

	(upsurge of grace) how short is the summer.

	Between me and God, it's true that most vexatious—

4	since it ends—is the coming of summer,

	and a gentle most cloudless sky,

	and a merry sun and its colour in summer,

	and a pleasant evening air,

8	and the world joyful in summer.

	A very good crop, unblemished flesh,

	comes from the old earth in summer.

	In order to grow (prettiest greening)

12	leaves on trees was summer given,

	and to see, so that I laugh,

	hair on the head of the fine summer birch.

	[It's] paradise, I sing to it,

16	who does not laugh when the summer is beautiful?

	I praise very consistently;

	of beautiful form—such a gift!—is the summer.

	Twice the brightness of foam, I love a girl

20	under the tops [of the trees], and the summer is her boldness.

	[The] cuckoo lovingly, if I ask it,

	will sing at the end of a sunny [day] of summer,

	fair blue-grey bird, I will gracefully allow [it],

24	vesper-bell at midsummer.

	[The] fairest nightingale of eloquent voice,

	sleek and bold in summer's porch,

	the cock (from battle I retreat)

28	thrush with the lively language of a child in summer,

	Ovid's man (most pleasant long day)

	come and go (a bold word) in the summer.

	Eiddig, Adam's bastard son,

32	he doesn't worry if the summer doesn't come.

	[A share] of winter has been given for his like

	but summer is the share of lovers.

	I myself under the birches do not desire,

36	in the houses of the grove, anything but the cloaks of summer,

	and to wear fine woven web,

	a fine cloak of the fair hair of summer.

	I'll untwine the ivy leaves,

40	there will be no cold in summer's long day.

	Gentle girl, if I greet her,

	[it's] a merry thing to take care of her at the beginning of summer.

	Poetry does not succeed, coldest of signs,

44	[there is] a ban on the lively poet of summer.

	The wind does not leave (I wear a cloak)

	[the] trees in a healthy state, woe yesterday for summer.

	[There is] longing (I won't exonerate myself)

48	in my breast for the fair weather of summer.

	If in autumn there comes (it's winter)

	snow and ice to drive [away] the summer,

	woe me, Christ, I shall ask,

52	if it drives [away] so soon, 'Where's summer?'