As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made,
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
Every thing did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone.

Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Vögel sangen,
Da ist meinem Herzen
Die Liebe aufgegangen.

Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Knospen sprangen,
Da hab' ich ihr gestanden
Mein Sehnen und Verlangen.

Translation:

In the beautiful month of May,
as all the birds were singing,
love started to blossom
inside of my heart.

In the beautiful month of May,
as all the buds were blossoming,
I confessed to her
my yearning and longing.

I hied me off to Arcady— The month it was the month of May, And all along the pleasant way
The morning birds were mad with glee,
And all the flowers sprang up to see,
As I went on to Arcady.

When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multitude
Of golden chalices to humming-birds
And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.

The Maple puts her corals on in May,
While loitering frosts about the lowlands cling,
To be in tune with what the robins sing.

I dwell no more in Arcady:—
But when the sky is blue with May,
And flowers spring up along the way,
And birds are blithe, and winds are free,
I know what message is for me,—
Fotr I have been in Arcady.

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.

'Tis May again, another May,
Looking as if it meant to stay ;
So many are its thousand flowers,
So glorious are its sunny hours,
So green its earth, so blue its sky,
As made for Hope's eternity.

On a day — alack the day! —
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air

It felt like spring time on this February morning
In a courtyard birds were singing your praise...

The moon, full-orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave;
The snowy splendours of her modest ray
Stream o'er the glistening waves, and quivering play;
Around her, glittering on the heaven's arched brow,
Unnumbered stars, enclosed in azure, glow,
Thick as the dew-drops of the April dawn,
Or May-flowers crowding o'er the daisy lawn;
The canvas whitens in the silvery beam,
And with a mild pale-red the pendants gleam;
The masts' tall shadows tremble o'er the deep;
The peaceful winds a holy silence keep;
The watchman's carol, echoed from the prows,
Alone, at times, awakes the still repose.

She stood amid the morning dew,
And sang her earliest measure sweet,
Sang as the lark sings,speeding fair, to touch and taste the purer air