בלדה לאביב הבוכה [English translation]

Atop my soul's mountain

The darkness of the winter will pass,

Like the bell of that narrow bridge

Between the yesterday and the tomorrow

The evening glides and floats.

My home is not far away

You are leaving too,

I will draw my yearnings for you

For I have no more strength to speak.

We shall meet at the flowering, in a beloved land,

For you are a foreigner in the Land of Darkness.

To the sound of your torn string

I will miss from afar,

The candle of the night shines brightly

And the smell of spring is like of a planted tree.

My home is not far away

You are leaving too,

I will draw my yearnings for you

For I have no more strength to speak.

We shall meet at the flowering, in a beloved land,

For you are a foreigner in the Land of Darkness.