(Based on a legend of my people, this song claimed second prize in the contest of song at the 5101 Butterfly Festival.  Due to some suggestions made by Thaumatous-- who claimed first prize-- it is currently under a bit of revision, but this is its current form.  --Tanager.)

?A maiden perched alone in a swaying willow tree.
The sun shone on black tresses, like stars glimmering in the night-
Sing willow, willow--
Her eyes were wild pine emerald, and she wove her spell on the wind,
And she called her butterflies by sacred names.
Sing willow, willow--
And they heard and they came, for her heart was ablaze,
Though she was the Somber Lord’s priestess, and knew that it never could be.

The first was a golden flametail, winging swiftly.
The maiden’s voice upon the wind bade her near,
Sing willow, willow--
‘Oh daughter of the sun, princess true of golden light,
Does my love seek me?  Is my true heart known?’
Sing willow, willow--
And she read in the dance of the butterfly’s wings,
‘He does not venture near, priestess.  Your heart’s not yet shown.’

The second was an azure lacewing, dancing slowly.
Nestled in the willow tree, the maiden called her down,
Sing willow, willow--
‘Oh daughter of the sky, princess true of swirling wind,
What course commands my love’s heart?  Am I sought?’
Sing willow, willow--
And she read in the dance of the butterfly’s wings,
‘His heart is a stranger here, priestess.  Your hopes lie in waste.’

The third was an emerald longwing, fluttering lightly,
The insect settled on the maiden’s stretching hand.
Sing willow, willow--
‘Oh daughter of the field, princess true of fertile plains,
Where wanders my love?  Should I seek him now?’
Sing willow, willow--
And she read in the dance of the butterfly’s wings,
‘He wanders by the river, priestess.  You cannot change fate.’

A maiden perched alone in a swaying willow tree.
The sun shone on the tears in her wild pine emerald eyes,
Sing willow, willow--
She wept her grief to the wind, and her heart opened up with vision,
And she called her butterflies by sacred names,
Sing willow, willow--
And their intricate dance wept with grief, for they loved their Lord’s priestess,
And knew that she did not know what they knew- but would learn.

The fourth was a scarlet gypsy, coquetting in the sky,
And she fluttered down when called and perched in the maiden’s hair.
Sing willow, willow--
‘Oh daughter of the flame, princess true of passioned will,
Who is with my love?  What name is mine to curse forever?’
Sing willow, willow--
And she read in the dance of the butterfly’s wings,
‘Not love, but hate, that siren sings, priestess.  Your love is doomed to die.’

The fifth was a sable starstreak, dark as evening,
And the maiden gave no call, but the starstreak slipped down still,
Sing willow, willow--
‘Oh daughter of the night, princess of the shadow,
Hark not near, for in my pride and hubris, I lose all.’
Sing willow, willow--
And she read in the dance of the butterfly’s wings,
‘Even thy Lord cannot change fate, priestess... but all is not lost.’

The sixth was an argent hawkseye, gliding silent,
And no mortal eye saw her drift from forest over plain.
Sing willow, willow--
The daughter of the moons, priestess true of grief and folly,
Seeking the winding river shore and the drowned man’s corpse washed there.
Sing willow, willow--
The hawkseye perched on the mouth of the dead man, grieving in the night,
And waited till the wind brought snow, and froze by her lost love’s side.

Alone in the midst of a forest stands a swaying willow tree-
A knot of tendrils are bound in a noose round a bare bone throat.
Sing willow, willow--
But up from the river there fly two pearl-white snowwings,
Son and daughter of the frost, crowned in truth by Lady Winter,
Sing willow, willow--
A pair of pearl-white snowwings, dancing paths of courtship,
Fly from the forest, up towards the sunlight, under Jastev’s silent gaze.