The willow maid lies sleeping
within old willow bole
her golden mantle shed once more
the damp ground thickly litters
Old willow tree is dreaming too
of summers past the counting
his bony fingers stroke the ground
caressing tiny saplings
he is content, can sleep again
till winter solstice passes
then longer days within his veins
the sap will drive and quicken
While snow still lingers all around
and gales may storm and whip him
his wily toes long chilled, draw upward life
with pink and golden twigs he glistens
While winter lingers
willow maid is dreaming dreams of spring
the snows are gone
she stretches eyelids fluttering
His old heart gladdens with new strength
the living sap shoots upwards
gold buds his head bedeck
she prances forth in joyous dance
in whirling loosened catkins
her golden hair is clad
The green of willow fronds she weaves
about her gleaming head
soft supple limbs with leaves are decked
as dancing forth she goes
In summer's languid heat she lies
upon the river bank
her cooling toes and fingers
in lazy water waving
the fish and river creatures
craving her cooling shade
Till once more blow the winds of change
with driving rain and golden leaf
she whirls the season's bidding.
