I see the wind in the trees go by,
And through the leaves, her hand does fly.
To be with her friends below,
To their size, she does grow.

Among the trees she dances.
With the leaves, she prances.
She, they cannot appease,
So she cuts off these bright leaves

And now with her friends all gone
Into sorrow, she is drawn.
In the night she shall cry,
And with anguish, she doth lie.

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