If those tulips you planted come up and see only me standing there, they will go back into the ground again.
A flower is a delicate thing. Be gentle. You want it to grow and not pluck it before its time.
Love you seek for, presupposes
Summer heat and sunny glow.
Tell me, do you find moss-roses
Budding, blooming in the snow?
Snow might kill the rose-tree's root -
Shake it quickly from your foot,
Lest it harm you as you go.
From the ivy where it dapples
a grey ruin, stone by stone, -
Do you look for grapes and apples,
Or for sad green leaves alone?
Pluck the leaves off, two or three -
Keep them for morality
When you shall be safe and gone.
Ce n’est pas toujours la fleur la plus belle
Qui sent le meilleur,
Ni l’oiseau montant sur la plus grande aile
Le plus haut rameur.
We would not have met, and the flowers will protect you. Kiba, because you protected this one, the flowers will return and bloom once more. So when the world is reborn, and Paradise opens, we will meet again. This one will be waiting for you. Find this one. And this time, the Paradise you hoped for will be.
All our winds and breezes are perfumed and for that reason we are glad to have them blow in our direction. The south breeze always has a violet odor; the north breeze has the fragrance of wild roses; the east breeze is perfumed with lilies-of-the-valley and the west wind with lilac blossoms. So we need no weathervane to tell us which way the wind is blowing.