ir_blue, a photo by kost_moskalets on Flickr.

“Tell me, gentle flowers, teardrops of the stars, standing
in the garden, nodding your heads to the bees as they sing
of the dews and the sunbeams, are you aware of the fearful
doom that awaits you?Dream on, sway and frolic while you
may in the gentle breezes of summer. Tomorrow a ruthless
hand will close around your throats. You will be wrenched,
torn asunder limb by limb, and borne away from your quiet
homes. The wretch, she may be passing fair. She may say
how lovely you are while her fingers are still moist with
your blood”.

THE BOOK OF TEA by Kakuzo Okakura