If I were a transparent willow
I would have many more arms to caress you
If one of them were lazy
There would be another to shiveringly rise its garlands of leaves
And touch your raindeer temples

If I had a willow body
My embrace would be more durable
My roots would prevent me from running when I am hurt
And our kiss would be more difficult to stop
My green blood would circulate naturally
Without sentimental cramps
Until late after innumerable snowfalls

If I were a weeping willow
I would weep only for love
Laughing under the shivering shadow of the clouds
In your arms I would tell stories
With lovers of the big cities
And I would utter their whispers and moans
As if reading from an old book of love

If I were to become a dry willow
Take the pruning knife and cut some twigs
Twine them and put some clay on
If people were to sing
Remember the wind blowing underneath
And rising our arms