I slip beneath a sagging willow
Sweat drains away my strength and will, oh
Break has begun but now the work begins.
The root of my distress is well-known
The fruit of my hard labor's unknown
Straining [grasping] for answers I search among the leaves.
Some boughs are kept in senseless shadow
Reminding me of my short life's woe
Never have I been favored with kind light.
But other branches sport their
Light sun gives they catch and keep and make their own
They do not mourn or wait for better light
But take what each moment the sun gives
Light sun gives they catch and keep and make their own
They do not mourn or wait for better light
But take what each moment the sun gives