Recently added

Begin, baby boy, to recognize your mother with a smile.

Even the gods have dwelt in the woods.

Every field, every tree is now budding; now the woods are green, now the year is at its loveliest.

Love conquers all; let us, too, yield to Love!

God gave us this leisure.

The trees are clothed with leaves, the fields with grass;

The blossoms blow; the birds on bushes sing;

And Nature has accomplished all the spring.

Happy old man! Here, amid familiar streams and sacred springs, you shall enjoy the cooling shade.

Each is led by his liking.

Look, ploughs feather the ground as the ox-teams draw them home,

And a declining sun enlarges the lengthening shadows:

Yet love still scorches me—love has no lull, no limit.

Everyone is dragged on by their favorite pleasure.

Let us go singing as far as we go: the road will be less tedious.

Freedom, which came at length, though slow to come.