Going forward in the light of things, let Nature be your professor 

By William Wordsworth

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Every day is a new beginning and for the day to be beautiful, you are the only one who can do it. The first conversation you make will influence your entire day, so you are the only one who can control the action. Action is controlled by gestures and words. The first good sign of the day can be a smile, it can be a good thought, it can be a man who is ignored by others around you. It is the attention of those around you that you need and you will get the same thing. Listen to those who think they have something to say and are not listening, it's more than a wisdom to have patience. And they will all become close to you. Be a flower that opens to the wind, to the sun, to the water, to every vibration no matter where it appears. Each day will be a pleasure and every space will be a positive energy because where you will pass you will change everything.

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Although the rain, by its nature, is as generous, the tulips grow in the garden, and in the wilderness thistles.

Quoted from Saadi

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I do not want to be wrong

Happiness is in two
It's made for us ...
I, too, looking at the sun
And to a new try.

We were left in the stars
Written to be two tulips,
I'm glad, I love you,
But I do not want to be wrong.

Poetry by Vlad Balan

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Flower of tulips

Now, when tulip petals begin to fall,
Now, when my eyes in your eyes begin to see
And-blue sky is ideal in the sun,
Let your thoughts in my mind throb;
It's hard to be perfect when you're not,
It's hard to feel like you die when you live,
But still let yourself be carried by the hand of fate
And do not give your body into the cup of death;
It fell like a petal ... there are three,
It's okay, it's not impossible if you want.
I feel like my eyelids are heavy
As these tulips are,
Which opens looking at the sun
And fall as the wind dies.
I feel like a light-colored light wave,
Come close to me, how do I feel in my soul?
We sleep embrace the lighthouse to figure out
Where we are or what the hour is, for our fears have died;
The petals are clinging and yet clear - it's night ...
It's a pity that tomorrow morning they will miss all.

Poetry by Marta Carmen Ioana