Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the lake,
There was a peony.
Amidst a solitary night, bound by sorrow,
I Inquire the peony.
For whom do you shed your petals and leaves,
for whom do you bloom?

Taking a stroll through the mountains with my friend,
We saw a peony, its petal glitter in specks of snow,
Buds that were the blossoms of springs.
That day we questioned the flowers,
But the flowers do not speak.
Alas, our questions remained unanswered.

She has a heart of cedar color
And dreams in shades of peony and lotus stems.
She leaves the smell of cyclamen and ripe apricots
Behind her,
Those who are crying in the shadows of Magnolias
Are finding a shelter within her.
Sometimes I imagine that I'm the sea foam
That is touching her ankles
And the air that envelops her lips,
Absorbing her every move,
That is reflected in the mosaic of her pupils.
Her thoughts are sleeping in the depths of my veins,
In every pore that absorbs her voice
I can hear her breathing.
I remain frozen in her existence
And in the contours of her shadow,
All of what I have seek so far
I have found in every thing on which she brushed.
After all,
I'm just a pale reflection of the stars
In her night sky,
The dying firefly in her garden
Of white poppies and wild rose hips.