English Rendering
South of the main streets catkins drift over greening trees,
Like snow they fall all over spring excursion paths.
Blossoms on trees are glamorous and the clouds light,
Under the foliage of trees is an established estate with a crimson gateway.
From its northern loft, where the curtains are raised high,
Directly in sight are the trees south of the main streets
Against the balustrade in her languor she lingers,
There fall a few evening showers.
In previous years late in spring, he used to rest his horse stamping on mosses,
By a tree of dense foliage and long he there stood.
Here fallen blossoms remain, half extended is the delicate screen hiding view,
Where has the familiar face disappeared to?