She sits there by the creek, alone and lost
Small, fragile, and dressed in white
After months, this poor girl is still hurting so bad
She no longer has any strength to fight
The water flows in its gentle pattern in front of her
This young girl use to shine as brightly as the sun
But now she just sits and stares at the trees
A pale, stone statue is what she has become
Everday, she sits beneath the same Willow Tree
And every night, she sits in that very same frame
You would think she's forgotten how to move, how to talk
She's so depressed, you'd wonder if she knows her name
But once a year, you'll see her move
And you wonder if today is gonna be the day
But once again, she's doesn't improve
And she walks to her husbands grave
She lays by his tombstone, so small and alone
And sings her and her husbands lullaby
Then when the time comes to go back to the creek
She softly and sadly says her goodbyes
After months and months of her heartbroken days
Her time had finally come to an end
She passed in her sleep beneath that same Willow Tree
And was buried beside her husband
But once a year, at the right time of night
If you look beneath that same Willow Tree
You'll see her figure, still dressed in white
But dancing with her husband to the sound of the creek
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great story in a good poem that haunts one in the right kind of way.