|
In the shades of |
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the verdant forest |
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tender and mild winds |
|
are washing the leaves. |
|
|
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Echoing whispers |
|
lead me to valley |
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where a tree stands in |
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a silver dress |
|
|
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Leaves shaped of tears |
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of sorrow and lonely years |
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gleaming in the light |
|
of the rising sun. |
|
|
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The silvery leaves are |
|
covering all my tears |
|
as I sit under the |
|
Willow of Tears. |
|
|
|
Whispers are calling |
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in beaming dreamy air |
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on the meadow where |
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the willow and I, |
|
|
|
wait for the mist to come |
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to dance on the silver pond. |
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It slowly guides us |
|
to eternal sleep. |
|
|
|
Leaves shaped of tears |
|
of sorrow and lonely years |
|
gleaming in the light |
|
of the rising sun. |
|
|
|
The Silvery leaves are |
|
covering all my tears |
|
as I sit under the |
|
Willow of Tears. |
