Youth is the hour when the sun rises
The time when nature is at its bloom.
A gathering harvest clothes the dry land
Fishes in abundance soak the sea.
My dear the sum of what I see
What shall our business be, before the winter and night falls?
Righteousness or vanity - which is sweeter to thee?
Will righteousness wither our shrubbery
And will vanity enrich our Love?
What we choose shall be all for pleasures' sake!
Which is eternal and which will fade?
Which is innocent and which is culpable to fade our joy?
Which is for you is for me - for joy nurtures at companies bosom!
Linger not my Love, this hour will soon pass,
A path awaits our supple limbs!
Herald the cry! two extremes anticipate our march
One as the joy which summer yields and the other
As the woe which winter brings.