Plum Flower

My Friend, there is a nation who feels proud of you.  Your unyielding nature makes you look even emaciated.  But lanky is not your name.  You are not afraid of the cold winter, but you are the first to bloom in spring.  The first gentlemen standing on the land dancing fearlessly with spring and a smiling gentleman, I called.

Chrysanthemum

My Friend, you do not mind lying next to the grave, and you do not mind associating with strangers soaking up in holy bath.  But you mind only if fall brings you the beauty of grief or sorrows.  With your haughty attitude in autumn, I do not ask for much.  As maple leaves died out all over the floor just for your tender face.

Bamboo

My Friend, your elegant, free and easy attitude whirling in the wind, bring a pause to my reminiscent for others.  But you are so modest, you do not forbid birds and landscape rivals with you on a manuscript and you give way to a painter’s inspiration.

 Orchid

My Friend, you are infamous.  You uphold the title of a National Flower and people sing so well of your elegant glory.  What else do you lack of?  Your distinctiveness, wholesome and noble sentiments put you high up to the zenith.  Infact, with your independent personality, praises are to you only a title, but a pursuit in the eyes of others.