Sad I stand at rivers end,
A weeping willows seed I plant.
It's tears will flow with rivers stream,
And leave my heartfelt pain in sand.
For sorrow marks this tree of life.
Lost all hope,
Gave in to strive.
So sad the live of Dryads is,
When suffering has replaced the bliss.
When all around the leaves are gray,
And hope is lost to death's abyss.
But die I can't without my tree.
Our souls are one,
Neither is free.
When spring at last is here again,
Gives back the leaves that once he wore.
This weeping willows tears will dry.
And souls entwined are no longer sore.
Under weeping willow's waving hair.
I'll find my rest,
When all is fair.
