It was dawn that lit up the tulip’s cup with a drink from the sun; for the tulip itself bore an empty cup when it joined the company of flowers.

By nature it had a taste for wine that is like crystal: It is from eternity’s sleeping-chamber that it brings its shining, star-like cup.

It did not bring either wine or a cup from eternity: The tulip gets its eternal passion from the scar in its own heart.