Under a willow tree,

Somewhere quite far away

I sat longingly,

And thought about you

The wind was gentle

It reminded me,

Of the touch of your skin,

And of how much I miss you

Will it happen again

I asked, all quietly

Will I turn out,

Like the ones whose eyes are cold

I could see you,

Turning yourself to face me

No, my dear, you spoke

That alone made me weep

You continued; hope in your tone,

My dear, you are more than kind

Unlike them you will grow

No scars will follow your actions

For your eyes shine with regret

And your voice hurries, asking for forgiveness