The leaves are coming, slowly budding,
The Aspen catkins are long past gone,
But on each willow branch buds are forming,
***** willows stand and face the dawn.

A world reborn, each day grows older,
A thousand branches each reborn,
The willows wait in pools of water,
On banks and marshes, low but full.

The barren winter is long past gone,
New life that started from the thaw,
Each branch, each tip, each growing twig,
The ***** willow cotton has come again.

The Aspen Moon has fled the world,
The Willow full and full of life,
Soon it will go as all moons do,
And the Willow Moon a lost memory.