As if to instantaneously release all the life force quietly stored during the severe winter, the countless pink flowers of the old shidare-ume tree are in full bloom all at once on the moss-covered drooping branches, while gloriously revealing the arrival of the joyous and fragrant spring.
Every earthy thing must change and pass away quickly in the ceaseless flow of time.
According to the constant turning of the seasons, the flowers of the each time bloom impressively to give particular delight to me, and, in a manner similar to these long-awaited ume flowers, disappear unhesitatingly from view just like my fleeting illusion.
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