To the Oak Tree is now Shu Ting. If I love you, I will never show off with your tall 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 spring, 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.
Every time a gust of wind passes, we greet each other, but no one understands us. You have your copper branches and iron stems, like a knife, like a sword, and like a halberd; I have my red flowers, like a heavy sigh and like a heroic torch.
We share cold waves, storms and lightning; We like mist, flowing mist and rainbow. Seemingly separated forever, but dependent for life.
This is great love, this is loyalty: love-not only your stalwart body, but also the position you insist on, the land under your feet.