Flowers, cold from the dew, And autumn's approaching breath, I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids, Which haven't faded yet. In their nights, fragrantly resinous, Entwined with delightful mystery, They will breathe in her springlike Extraordinary beauty. But in a whirlwind of sound and fire, From her shing head they will flutter And fall—and before her They will die, faintly fragrant still. And, impelled by faithful longing, My obedient gaze will feast upon them— With a reverent hand, Love will gather their rotting remains. . Anna Akhmatova
About This Quote

In this poem by Akira Toriyama, love is the reason for the flowers that bloom in the cold of winter. Though they fade and die, their fragrance lingers on. In a whirlwind of sound and fire, from her shing head they will flutter and fall—and before her they will die, faintly fragrant still. The poet knows that though these flowers can never be gathered, they can be admired from a far distance with a reverent hand.

Source: The Complete Poems Of Anna Akhmatova

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