Verse > Anthologies > Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. > A Harvest of German Verse
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Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans.  A Harvest of German Verse.  1916.
 
Longing for Spring
By Walter von der Vogelweide (1170–1228)
 
ALAS, the winter has hurt us everywhere.
The forest and the heath are both so bare,
Where many a sweet voice resounded through the air.
Ah, if on the street I saw the maidens fair
Play ball, the songs of birds would be there.        5
 
I should like to sleep through winter’s delay.
Jealous I grow when awake I stay,
Because the winter has such a mighty sway.
God knows at last he yields unto May,
Where the frost lies now, I’ll pluck a nosegay.        10
 
 
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