“So much I have learned:
the blossom that fades away,
its color unseen,
is the flower in the heart
of one who lives in this world.”

—  Ono no Komachi

Source: Helen Craig McCullough's translations, Kokin Wakashū: The First Imperial Anthology of Japanese Poetry (1985), p. 174

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "So much I have learned: the blossom that fades away, its color unseen, is the flower in the heart of one who lives …" by Ono no Komachi?
Ono no Komachi photo
Ono no Komachi15
Japanese poet 825–900

Related quotes

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo

“It is most sad to watch the fall
Of autumn leaves!--but worst of all
It is to watch the flower of spring
Faded in its fresh blossoming!”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

Title Poem
The Improvisatrice (1824)

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton photo

“Love not! love not! ye hopeless sons of clay;
Hope’s gayest wreaths are made of earthly flowers—
Things that are made to fade and fall away,
Ere they have blossomed for a few short hours.”

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton (1808–1877) English feminist, social reformer, and author

Love not.

Ono no Komachi photo

“A thing which fades
With no outward sign—
Is the flower
Of the heart of man
In this world!”

Ono no Komachi (825–900) Japanese poet

trans. Arthur Waley, p. 78
Donald Keene's Anthology of Japanese Literature (1955)

Jean Paul photo

“When in your last hour (think of this) all faculty in the broken spirit shall fade away, and sink into inanity — imagination, thought, effort, enjoyment — then will the flower of belief, which blossoms even in the night, remain to refresh you with its fragrance in the last darkness.”

Jean Paul (1763–1825) German novelist

Source: Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), P. 238.

Oscar Wilde photo

“A flower blossoms for its own joy.”

Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) Irish writer and poet

Harry Chapin photo

“But there still must be a way to have our children say…
"There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one."”

Harry Chapin (1942–1981) American musician

Live version
Flowers are Red
Song lyrics, Living Room Suite (1978)

Bawa Muhaiyaddeen photo

“The real fast is the blossoming of the inner heart. Fragrance must emanate. The qualities, conduct, behavior, and disposition that accompany this blossoming make no sound. Light and fragrance must dawn in the inner heart. The one point which is God must resplend. Do fast, but make sure the heart blossoms; make it fragrant. The flowering scent must emanate, and when that space is perceived, the One who inhales that perfume will come. The One who perceives that fragrance will come. He is the Lord.”

Bawa Muhaiyaddeen (1900–1986) Sri Lankan Sufi leader

The Fast of Ramadan: The Inner Heart Blossoms (2005)

Harry Chapin photo

“But the little boy said…
"There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flowers and I see every one."”

Harry Chapin (1942–1981) American musician

Flowers are Red
Song lyrics, Living Room Suite (1978)

Sara Teasdale photo

“I lift my heart as spring lifts up
A yellow daisy to the rain;
My heart will be a lovely cup
Altho' it holds but pain.

For I shall learn from flower and leaf
That color every drop they hold,
To change the lifeless wine of grief
To living gold.”

Sara Teasdale Rivers to the Sea

"Alchemy"
Rivers to the Sea (1915)

Percy Bysshe Shelley photo

“The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats though unseen among us; visiting
This various world with as inconstant wing
As summer winds that creep from flower to flower”

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) English Romantic poet

St. 1
Hymn to Intellectual Beauty (1816)
Context: The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats though unseen among us; visiting
This various world with as inconstant wing
As summer winds that creep from flower to flower;
Like moonbeams that behind some piny mountain shower,
It visits with inconstant glance
Each human heart and countenance;
Like hues and harmonies of evening,
Like clouds in starlight widely spread,
Like memory of music fled,
Like aught that for its grace may be
Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.

Related topics