If I love you,
I will never be like the climbing flower in the sky,
I borrow your high branches to show off myself,
If I love you, I love you,
I will never imitate the infatuated bird,
Repeat a monotonous song for the green grass,
It is not just like a source,
The lieutenant title that brings coolness all the year round,
is not just like a dangerous peak,
increases your height,
sets off your majesty,
Even sunlight and even spring rain,
No, these are not enough,
I must be a kapok near you;
As the image of a tree and You stand together,
the roots are clenched in the ground,
the leaves touch the clouds,
every gust of wind passes by,
We all greet each other;
But no one understands our words,
You have your brass branches and iron rods,
Like knives, like arrows, like Halberd,
I have my red flowers;
Like a heavy sigh,
I also want the heroic torch,
We Sharing the cold wave, wind, rain and thunderbolt;
We browsed the mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist, mist and mist. Love not only loves your majestic body,
it also loves the position you insist on,
the land under your feet.