2. Take a closer look at the withered leaves. Wrinkles are deep in the back. The veins on the back are as full as veins. There is no golden glory. It's just a gray face in Zhang Qing. It was so full and bright before. The dark green leaves sparkled with hope in the storm. Under the scorching sun, the cover is comfortable and cool. Now, driven by the cold current of fate, it curled up like an old busker and sang a trembling bass. That is a lost pear tree in my heart. Hilda doolittle's silver powder rises from the ground, which is beyond my reach.