Proljetni plesač Spring dancer

Tkanina pod mojom kožom meka je kao san, Gledam u sunce proljetno kroz krošnje, Sve je nešto zeleno, sve je nešto zlatno. Gle! Duša mi se rasplesala, proletjela kroz park, U ritmu gitare i naših radosnih glasova, Skakuće od boje do boje, od mirisa do mirisa.

The cloth beneath my skin is soft as a dream, I look at the spring sun through the canopies, Everything has some green in it, everything some gold. Look! My soul has set itself to dancing, has flown through the park, To the rhythm of a guitar and our joyful voices, Skipping from colour to colour, from scent to scent.