Daffodil

 

A tempest turned into a gust of wind

when it crossed the path of a daffodil.
After that, the gust of wind
gradually whirled around the daffodil,
turning into tranquility.
The daffodil, in its innocence,
never understood the tragedy. 

Autumn passed by, and winter came,

The daffodil lies beneath the snow.
The wind is breezing through the flakes,
But it's too heavy for it to find the flower.

For its love, I fear it will turn to a frost storm.
What if the daffodil is frozen?
Winter is a whiteout.

Shall it wait for spring?
For then, the daffodil will bloom.