Unlike some others, my mistress didn't look upon those amaro who could talk with mistrust. She treated me as not simply her beast of burden, but a friend, and together we embarked on many grand adventures.
But we amaro live far longer than men do. Sensing that her time was near, she left my side, not wanting me to witness her life fading away.
But to this day, a part of me wants to believe that she's still somewhere out there. That one day she'll return, and we'll go on adventures as we once did.
And so I remain in this place, where last I saw her. It's been thirty years now...
In my heart of hearts I know she's gone. But so long as I live, I'll remember my kind and gentle mistress, who so loved beautiful things. I hope that this flower will bring her joy, wherever she may be.