To the oak tree.
If I love you-/I will never learn to climb the Campbell flower,/I will show off myself on your high branch;
/If I love you-/Never learn from spoony birds,/Repeat monotonous songs for the shade;
/It's not just like a fountain/It brings cool comfort all year round; /Not just like a dangerous mountain peak,
/increase your height,/set off your dignity. /even sunshine/even spring rain
No, these are not enough. I must be a kapok beside you.
/Stand with you as the image of a tree. /root, clenched in the ground;
/Leaves, lingering in the clouds. Every time a gust of wind blows, we greet each other.
But no one understands us. You have your copper branches and iron stems.
/Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd; /I have my red flowers,/like a heavy sigh,
/Like a heroic torch/We share the cold wave and lightning;
/We * * * enjoy the misty rainbow; /seemingly separated forever, but they are dependent for life.
/This is great love,/Loyalty is here/Love/Not only your stalwart body,
/I also love your stand,/the land under your feet.
Xu zhimo bid farewell to Cambridge
Say goodbye to Cambridge again
Author: Xu Zhimo
I left quietly,
When I came softly;
I waved gently,
Say goodbye to the western clouds.
Golden willow by the river,
Is the bride in the sunset;
Shadows in the waves,
Ripple in my heart.
Green grass on the soft mud,
Oily, swaying at the bottom of the water;
In the gentle waves of He Kang River,
I would like to be an aquatic plant!
A pool in the shade of elm trees,
Not a clear spring,
Is the rainbow in the sky;
Crushed between floating algae,
Precipitate a rainbow-like dream.
Looking for dreams? Lift a long pole,
Back to greener grass;
Full of stars,
Play songs in a starry place.
But I can't play songs,
Quiet is a farewell flute;
Summer insects are also silent for me,
Silence is Cambridge tonight!
I left quietly,
Just as I came quietly;
I waved my sleeve,
Don't take away a cloud.
These are my two favorite songs, and a song "Believe in the Future" is also good.
Believe in the future
When cobwebs mercilessly sealed my stove.
When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty
I still stubbornly smooth away the ashes of disappointment.
Write with beautiful snowflakes: believe in the future.
When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn
When my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings
I still stubbornly use frosted vines.
Write on the desolate land: believe in the future.
I want to use my fingers to stir the waves that rush to the horizon.
I want to hold the sun in my hand.
The warm and beautiful pen flickers with the dawn.
Write with a child's pen: believe in the future.
I believe in the future.
Yes, I believe that people's eyes in the future
She brushed away the eyelashes of history.
She has a student who can read through the years.
No matter what people think of our rotting bodies.
Those lost blues, the pain of failure.
It was tears of emotion and deep sympathy.
Or give a contemptuous smile and bitter ridicule?
I firmly believe that people are interested in our spine.
Countless explorations, lost ways, failures and successes.
I will definitely give a warm, objective and fair evaluation.
Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their comments.
Friends, believe in the future.
Believe in indomitable efforts
Believe in the teenager who overcomes death, believe in the future and love life.