The violet, with modesty,
grows close above the ground,
and peeks out from its heart-shaped leaves,
without a fuss or sound.

It is not stately in its stance,
no grandeur does it claim,
and yet, in its humility,
there's splendor in its frame.

If I could plant the perfect field,
if that were in my power,
I'd fill the field with violets,
so fair this graceful flower.