A silver flower, with its gleaming petals,
Whispers as the wind whirls.
A silver flower, with its gleaming beams,
Shines as the stars stand.

Not gray, but silver.
Not glittery, but fiery.
A silver fiery flower,
Which lives as the others pass.

Expected to shine, it dulls as a choice;
Perfectly content, it rises its roots.
A leave for a leave makes the whole world bleed.

Shine, its working soul,
Come pistol and all.
Triumphing and victorious,
As loud as a daisy.

As loved as a rose.
As unique as a tulip.
The silver fiery flower speaks:
“A leave for a leave makes the whole world bleed.”