Qixi Festival | Faint stars adorn the pearl-like light, palace maids busy with the Qixi Festival begging for skill
Publish Time:
2024-08-10 09:32
Source:
https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s?__biz=MzkxNDY1MzU0Nw==&mid=2247484686&idx=1&sn=1099177a3485bee5dde4b11ba1c0be2e&chksm=c16a6d0af61de41c7a940473e568ce2403a403b32603efdf886fdc68bac4e63e2b7e42ba25cd&token=202653720&lang=zh_CN#rd

To the Oak
Modern · Shu Ting
If I love you—
I will never be like a climbing vine,
Using your high branches to show off myself;
If I love you—
I will never be like a lovesick bird,
Repeating monotonous songs for the green shade;
Nor will I be like a spring,
Constantly sending cool comfort;
Nor will I be like a dangerous peak,
Increasing your height, setting off your majesty.
Even sunlight.
Even spring rain.
No, these are not enough!
I must be a kapok tree near you,
Standing with you as a tree.
Roots, firmly grasped in the earth,
Leaves, touching in the clouds.
With every gust of wind,
We greet each other,
But no one,
Understands our language.
You have your bronze branches and iron trunk,
Like a knife, like a sword, also like a halberd;
I have my red and large blossoms,
Like heavy sighs,
And like brave torches.
We share the cold tide, wind, thunder, and lightning;
We share the mist, clouds, and rainbows.
As if forever separated,
Yet forever dependent.
This is true great love,
Firmness is here:
Love—
Not only loving your majestic body,
But also loving your steadfast position,
The land beneath your feet.

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