Winter and Spring
No season in the year
Is as desolate and barren as winter.
It smothers all life
Under its cold bitter reaches,
Ice and Frost, covering the ground.
And yet, under this blanket of ice and frost, lies the bulbs of spring;
Without the chills of winter,
Neither tulip nor daffodil will sprout:
Everyone knows this is true,
Yet few cherish the chill of winter.
The master feels the joy of winter,
Serene in the most desolate of times;
Neither the chill nor the sorrow of the bitterest season
Can pierce his resolute heart.
For he knows without winter, there cannot be spring.
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