Honored companion: When you return, let us go down to yon forest, as our hearts have yearned. I know a girl of the green bright balms and flowering hair; when spring comes to the valley, she will wait for you there.
As hunter shoots the stag, so huntress strikes the lad's heart; leaves crunch beneath their boots, in crisp handhold they won't part. Grass drinks the gold dew flood, orange sun never wants to wane; but far beyond the verdant wood, a martial voice calls out your name.
So grasp your sword by hardened hilt, and with pike upon your shoulder, live not for the joys of life; live but to grow older. Then mount the hills with me, cast aside your roving bow; for ours is a life of misery, and in summer we must go.