Every living thing needs zeal
In order to develop,
Treat it badly if you lose it,
But do not whine when it happens.

How can a sun fall in love,
For a flower born to perfume,
She has a trump card to win you know,
And the sun surrenders without hesitation.

A short novel, but with much ardor,
A spring for the Sun and the Flower.

Soon his birth he contemplates
Waiting for your patient bloom,
You are smoking, his vision is broad,
The earliest time or ornament.

A short novel, but with much ardor,
A spring for the Sun and the Flower.

Some poor drones want the sun to match,
Kissing and sucking the flower then reject it and let it dry,
Around to pollinate the next flower bud.
But the Sun says: This is my flower until the summer comes.

A short novel, but with much ardor,
A spring for the Sun and the Flower.