Until the arrival of another spring, a wanderer came here and saw such a gorgeous willow tree. Its enthusiasm during the day and tranquility at night deeply attracted him. He lingers, he stops, and he can't bear to leave. Maybe he wrote a poem for her, or maybe in the afterglow of sunset, Liu is like a shy little sister next door. So the title of the poem is "Red Willow". Liu was deeply intoxicated by the scholar's affectionate poetry recitation. She no longer shakes the delicate branches to attract other tourists to stop, nor twists the delicate yellow flowers to attract admirers to linger. She is willing to be here quietly, only for him and only for him.
But spring is still fast and heartless. Willow leaves fall and flowers bloom. Branches and vines that were once wrapped in flowers and leaves are now only green strips, from yellow to green. -She's not young anymore.
I don't know when the wandering scholar quietly packed his bags and left this lifeless willow bush.
Sad Liu misses every day and cries every night. After countless springs, there is still no figure familiar to scholars. Although she has never twisted her graceful posture, she will never dance tender branches for others. She just stared at the sunset that dyed her red every day.
Thousands of ships passed by, and no one expected to appear.
Liu's young face and broken heart can no longer bear the waiting of countless old springs. She decided to follow the footsteps of the sunset to find the figure of the scholar who was gone forever.
Along the way, her enchanting posture attracted too many passers-by to stop and watch. She didn't feel a trace of joy in those compliments. Because, among them, there is no figure she misses so much. Then, another spring day, she came to the river for a long time and finally took a look at this beautiful image that moved countless people. Then, with a knife, I cut off the branches that once made all the willows proud and fascinated countless poets. Those tender branches looked at the willow innocently and sadly, stained with the blood of the willow, and floated away with the river.
Liu hit the road again, and a lonely evening covered the horizon. She finally reached the end of the sunset-a barren desert with no end in sight. The poor and bitter land here hurts Liu. So she resolutely stayed. She adapted her delicate body to the thick alkaline layer here. She faded away from the noise and adapted to the loneliness here. I just sang the song "Red Willow" that made her fall in love and ended in sadness every day.
How many years later, the sacred glory of the sunset held a grand baptism for her. Her body changed from green to bright red. And her only remaining branches, under the blow of sand, have also become vigorous and rough. She changed from a beautiful and enchanting girl to a soldier guarding the frontier.
People will still miss her. Just, no longer for her appearance. People will loudly praise her tenacity, her stubbornness, her stubbornness and sadness, and her deep feeling of looking into the distance. . . . .
People will call her "red willow" softly in her lingering feelings, indelible expression and blush. . . "
Her, red willow. Put away all the enchanting beauty, take root deeply in the bitter and salty desert where the Yellow River estuary meets, and always look at the scholar who will never see you again with infinite tenderness. . . .