These Flowers Endure

Red dawns the Sun,

In prophecy.

The winds hold their breath,

As the morning arrives 

Uncertain

In the East.

Yellow and blue,

Stand the flowers,

Earlier than spring,

Nourished by the soil,

Where the Ancestors remember.

Stand tall, stand,

Though boot or wheel,

May threaten the fields,

Yellow and blue,

These flowers endure.