Spring-tide

Anonymous. c. 1300
The original poem and a translation is here

3. Spring-tide

Early spring is come with love in its turn,
With blossom and with birds' song,
That all this bliss brings;
Daisies in the valleys,
Sweet notes of nightingales,
Each fowl sings its song;

The thrush chides them all,
Gone is their winter woe,
When woodruff blooms;
Marvellously many fowls sing,
And whistle so in their happiness,
That all the wood rings.

The rose clothes herself in red,
The leaves on the light-colored wood
All grow all with a will;
The moon sends forth her light,
The lily is lovely to see,
The fennel and the thyme;
The wild drakes woo,
Males make their mates merry;
Like a stream that still flows,
The moody man moans; many of them do
It seems that I am one of them
Because of love that went wrong.

The moon sends forth her light,
So does the bright, lovely sun.
When birds sing lustily;
Dew makes the slopes soggy,
Lovers with their secret tales
Give their decisions;
Worms woo under the dirt,
Women grow so proud,
So it would seem,
If I can't have the will of one,
I'll forego this wealth of joy
And be banished to the woods.