Tulip: The Declaration of Love (True love · Affection · Royalty · Rebirth) In the language of flowers, the tulip speaks clearly: a declaration of love. Not a plea, but a promise. A bloom that doesn’t beg — it believes. Victorians left tulips on doorsteps and windowsills, confessions wrapped in color, a way to say “my heart is yours” without trembling words. Even now, tulips carry meanings of royal affection, quiet forgiveness, and love that returns after silence. A Turkish legend tells of Ferhad and Shirin — forbidden lovers. He, a stonecutter; she, a princess. To win her hand, he carved through mountains. But when false news reached him that Shirin had taken her life, he ended his own in despair. Where his innocent blood touched the earth, tulips began to bloom — symbols of devotion so deep, it remade the soil. Grief, turned to bloom. Sorrow, made beautiful. But the tulip’s story doesn’t end in tragedy — it teaches transformation. Tulips do not bloom without winter. They need frost — a season of stillness — to awaken what sleeps beneath. As if the cold were not a punishment, but a preparation. This is their quiet alchemy: to turn the hardest season into color, to rise not despite the cold, but because of it. The tulip carries spring in its bones — proof that even after the deepest grief, something soft and meaningful can unfold again.