When the Weeping Willow Cries

A tale of broken hearts and voodoo

“When the Weeping Willow Cries”

Jeanvieve was a Creole lass

Who lived in Nawlinstown.

Her hair it was as black as night,

Her skin a creamy brown.

Jeanvieve loved a river lad,

A handsome boy and strong.

He worked aboard a cargo boat

And would be gone days long.

Jeanvieve used to wait for him

Beneath the willow tree,

Just waiting for her river lad

To return to New Orleans.

But then the rain began to fall,

The river swelled its banks.

Jeanvieve lost her river lad,

His cargo boat had sank.

Jeanvieve left the French Quarter,

To the bayou she did go

To seek the ancient wisdom of

The voodoo queen Marie Leveau.

“Mámá I’ve lost my river lad

Beneath the rising water,

Please, don’t you have some remedy

To soothe your weeping daughter?”

Marie Leveau gave her a charm,

A little brown acorn.

“Jeanvieve you must eat this fruit

And no more shall you mourn.”

Jeanvieve left Marie Leveau,

She went back to the river.

No sooner had she ate the nut

When she began to shiver.

Jeanvieve fell down to the bank,

Jeanvieve fell down dead,

And from her grave there swiftly grew

A weeping willow overhead.

And when the weeping willow cries

It cries with Jeanvieve’s tears.

And still the weeping willow cries

After all these passing years.