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The Christmas fir tree

Over there in the wood, there is,
My friend, a beautiful fir tree.
The tip moves and lengthens,
The fresh wind rocks it.
The tip moves and lengthens,
the fresh wind rocks it.
 
During the summer its branches
Turn green in the sun
And in the freshest ones,
The squirrels swing on them.
And in the freshest ones,
The squirrels swing on them.
 
Later, the light snow
Rests on him,
Covering it down to the ground,
Like a nice coat.
Covering it down to the ground,
Like a nice coat.