The Flowers

I'm sitting by the window that looks out onto the flowering balcony. I'm looking at a rose and I talk to her. "I am the rose, the most important flower in the garden, I have siblings of different colors, some of us are fragrant."

At that moment the orchid appeared. "You are a flower of little prestige, I am refined. I'm used for important gifts, presents of distinction."

The rose answered her: "You belong to a parasitic plant that lives off other plants."

Don't argue, said the pansy, "I am humbler, but you always keep me around, who doesn't have a pansy?"

From under a leaf appeared the humblest of them all, the violet: I am simple, loving, people love me and name their daughters after me.

From a corner a voice was heard: "I am more popular, my scent announces me and people use my name too, I am the jasmine."

"You all show off by day, but I perfume the night, I am very plain, my flower looks like a teardrop and they call me Lady of the Night."

She appeared with a click of heels: I am the tango, I'm always in the lapel of the tough guys, everyone knows me, I am the carnation, I dress up in different colors but I stay true to my rough origins from the outskirts.

She stood up and looked at the others as if she were above them: they call me the flower of the dead because I'm used for wreaths, because I last longer than you, I am the calla lily.

A burst of laughter was heard: I laugh all day long, I'm not demanding, I reproduce easily and that's why they call me the Joy of the Home.

I woke up, I was sitting by the window, looking at the flower that lives only a day, and I thought: so beautiful, and it lasts only a day. Let's enjoy beautiful things even if they last a short time. If only flowers could talk…