Once upon a time, dream, dream poems of miracle, a flowering tree, stand a long time, just to stick to a persistent, just to let you meet me, just for a can and you a destiny.

Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter: Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.

In one corner stood a huge summer-flowering magnolia , a tower of dark foliage, splashed here and there with milkwhite blossoms.