Choir for 4 voices
Soprano solo
Alto solo
Tenor solo
Bass solo
Trumpet I + II + III
Bassdrum
Travers fluteI + II
Oboe d`amore
Oboe I + II
Violin I + II
Viola
Basso continuo

Sound, all ye drums now! Resound, all ye trumpets!
Resonant viols, make swell now the air!
Sing now your anthems, ye vigorous poets,
Vivat regina! How happy the shout!
Vivat regina! the hope of the Saxons:
Long live the Queen, may she flourish and prosper!

This is the day
When ev'ryone may find delight.
This is the shining hour
To celebrate the Queen's glad birthday,
Which Poles and Saxons, all of us,
In greatest joy and bliss revealeth.
Mine olive
Tree with sap and richness runs.
It showeth yet no leaves of yellow;
I fear no storm, flash, clouds of sadness,
gloomy weather.

Blow the well-tuned, well-played flutes now,
That foe, lilies, moon be blushing,
Ring triumphantly with song!
Let your weapons clearly sound!
Such a feast demandeth gladness,
For both mind and spirit nurture.

My clanging metal's sound
As in the air the charges burst with thunder,
The joyful peal;
The spectacle's enchantment;
The joy which Saxons now perceive
Doth touch the hearts of many.
My flashing piece of arms,
Next these my sons in order marching,
And their heroic sense of honor
Increase each moment more and more
The present day's delightful pleasure.

Faithful Muses! My companions!
Sing not long outmoded anthems!
May this day bring you delight!
Fill with gladness now your breast!
Cast aside both quill and tablets
And rejoice with thrice the pleasure!

This our Queen o'er all the nation,
Sent to us as heaven's angel,
Is the Muses' hope and shield.
My Pierians can do it:
They, who kiss her very hem in rev'rence,
For her constant happiness
Thanks and due and sound alway shall raise.
Yea, their hope is that her lifetime
May afford us lasting pleasure.

Crown and star of crownéd ladies,
O great Queen! With thy name's honor
I will fill the orb of earth.
All that virtue e'er doth prize,
Glory of heroic women,
These are native to thy being.

Let press forth now throughout the earthly ball
My mouth, which with the queen's repute is filled!
Her fame shall to the axis
Of yon fair starry heaven prosper,
The Queen of all the Saxons and of Poland
Be e'er to heaven's care commended.
Through her will heaven' pole
Make firm her many subjects' long awaited goal.
And may the noble Queen yet long amongst us here now tarry
And late, ah, late to heaven hasten.

Choir and Tenor (Irene): Flourish, ye lindens in Sax'ny like cedars!
Choir and Soprano (Bellona): Echo with weapons and wagons and axles!
Choir and Alto (Pallas): Sing now, ye Muses, make full now the sound!
Choir: O joyful hours, o ye joyous ages!
Grant us more often these golden occasions:
Life to the Queen, yea, yet long may she live!