I am the roots of the willow that weep,
that produce the tears of the lonely.
Silently they fall, quickly disappear.
As water flows swiftly downstream,
will sadness be caught in the eddy?
Will my inner strength,
let me take hold the winter wind,
to bring forth joys of spring?
(3rd verse before revision)
Will I weep foreverer,
or will inner strength release me,
to let me move on and smile again?
