The old ones have gathered
To teach the young ones of light;
The songs we sing chase away night.
The young ones have arrived
To teach the old ones of joy;
No more, they say, is time to destroy.
The warmth will rise, the buds will bloom
Beneath the cold ground;
My fecund roots moisten, rebound.
The sun aligns with stone
The balanced moment now at hand;
In an instant warmth returns to land.
So sing and dance, and in joyous voice unite
The time to love is reason;
It is as I say, I am the Queen of Seasons.