She said I was Begonia and I said she was Lilac.
She said: "The blooming of begonias is as bright as the morning glow, and their thanks are like the red dust stained with blood."
I said: "The lilac blooms like a beautiful lady arriving quietly. I smell her fragrance before I hear her words. It fades like a butterfly's clothes torn off by the wind. I don't see her regrets but only see her soul disappear."