First, "to the oak tree"? ：
If I love you, I will never show off on your high branches like climbing Campbell. ?
If I love you-I will never learn from spoony birds and repeat monotonous songs for the shade. ?
It is not only like a fountain, but also brings cool comfort all year round. ?
It is not just like a dangerous peak, it increases your height and sets off your dignity. ?
Even during the day. ?
Even spring rain. ?
No, these are not enough! ?
I must be a kapok beside you, standing with you as a tree. ?
Roots, close to the ground, leaves, lingering in the clouds. Whenever a gust of wind blows, we greet each other.
But no one understood us. ?
You have your copper branches and iron stems, like knives, swords and halberds.
I have my red flowers, like a heavy sigh and like a heroic torch. ?
We share cold waves, storms and lightning; We * * * enjoy the fog and rainbow, as if we were separated forever, but we were dependent on each other for life. This is great love, and it is determined here.
Not only love your stalwart body, but also love the position you insist on and the land under your feet.
Second, the "gift":
My dream is a dream of a pond. Survival is not only reflecting the sky, but also letting weeping willows and Chinese milk vetch around me suck me clean.
I followed the roots to the veins, and withering was not sad for me. I expressed myself and gained my life.
My happiness is the happiness of sunshine, short-lived, but leaving immortal creation.
In the child's eyes, a small golden fire was lit.
In the germ of the seed, green songs are sung.
I am simple and rich, so I am profound.
My sorrow is the sorrow of migratory birds, and only spring can understand this love.
Endure all difficulties and failures and fly to a warm and bright future forever.
Ah, bleeding wings.
Write a complete poem, go deep into all hearts and enter all times. All my feelings are gifts from the land.