When it lovingly turns its face to the sun it blanches and fades, but in the end it is swarthy and rich with color.

“When the sunflower fell in love with the sun, all the other plants died laughing. ‘The sun never budges from his throne in the sky,’ they all said together. ‘He is mighty and unapproachable. Why should he spare a glance for you? Give up this folly.’ The sunflower didn’t say a word, just fixed her loving eyes on the sun and gazed with longing.
For a long time the sun didn’t notice anything, but finally one day he felt this gaze upon him. At first he thought it was a passing fancy, but in time he realized he had been mistaken. The sunflower was so stubborn that wherever he moved his throne she tirelessly turned her face in that direction.
So it went until one afternoon, fed up with this constant pursuit, the sun turned his yellow wrath on the sunflower and scorched her. While the black smoke was still curling upwards, people came thronging to the scene. ‘Wonderful!’ one of them said, ‘Now we’ll be able to nibble this love.’"*