a rose as red as blood has bloom
and birds have come to see it now
the grass is growing greener too
despite the falling of white snow
So many mountains watch afar
and rivers thaw melodic chants
as moons become one shining star
to give the sun to this one plant
but deers and bears can’t trust their eyes
For Winter barely has arrived
the warm they feel is thought as lies
they seek refuge in order to survive

yet this one rose has bloomed in Winter Land,
was this a miracle or was it planned?