May is the month of birds, the month of bees, the month of lilacs, the month of Whitman's birth"May
is a month full of hope, because the word may represents both may and infinite possibilities."
The red color was very irregular, as if the pigment had not been adjusted properly; White flowers, old friend
Hosta is enough. What I would like to see most is purple. It echoes with the orchids in early spring and the
vines in early summer. Let the purple fantasy fill the garden. Let the wind blow away the sadness and keep
the dream.
To like and to be loved is like the turbulent leaves in May swept by the breeze. Bright may fills the ruins
with the soft vines of grapes and roses. Willows, reeds and grape branches on the bank sway in the breeze of
the Rhine.