You are ready from gloom to suicide,
Hang yourself, or shoot in the mouth.
Wait a while - and the spring will come to your side
After just three more snowy months.

Nightingales of the cherry will whistle,
Full of nightingales cherry will stand.
May go past you the shot from the pistol
And the rope fall apart in your hands.

With the fishing rods made of redwood
People will catch the fish on the hook,
And the swan with white breast and white feathers
Will swim lightly upon the lake.

Mounds will breathe with dampness and drown,
Will send redolence and be green,
And your neck, as it gives a way down,
Will become pouring with rain.

And the bushes under flooding river
Into lilac and cherry will bloom.
Noisy, singing, the spring will deliver
All your girlfriends and also - you.

And will love, and will bloom, and will spring again
All that dimmed in the winter from gloom.
All the dry will be cut by axe-wielding hand
And the juicy will bravely bloom.

Do not kill yourself, do hang your head,
Rather let your fantasy play.
We will live through these months however we can,
And soon afterwards - there is May!