Willow’s over the river

A tear quietly drops

She is too tired to shiver,

Wasn’t born in a copse.

 

No one is around her

No one to embrace…

Only the wind has found her.

Is she in such disgrace?

 

How hard it is for the willow

To stay here all alone,

Looking at the swallow,

Which all the trees know.

 

She has no one to talk with,

There is no one her love to share,

Wind has brought her a myth

She could hardly bear.

 

All trees live in pairs,

Some are real friends,

Engaged in love affairs,

For true love everyone tends.

 

Being friends with the wind

She wanted to fly to an oak.

But wind has just grinned.

You are destined to cry-he spoke.

 

Don’t you cry, my dear! -

Said the chatty, naughty wind,

You look like from a fairy tale,

Beautiful and cleaned.

 

She let down her silky hair

And said in a sad voice:

An oak met a subtle alder.

He is a man and has a choice.

 

                  ***

Now the willow stays like this:

Singing the songs without words.

Her branch looks like a tress

Into the water she droops.

 

The moon is walking in the sky

Smiling to the brightest stars

Only the lonely willow cries

Leaving in her heart only scars.

 

                   ***

Do not be born beautiful!

Your beauty will fade away.

Be grateful to be born happy.

Happiness with you will stay.

 

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

21^st of June, 2013