To the Oak Tree

Qing

<h3><br></h3><div>   </div><div>If I love you --</div><div>I will never be a clinging trumpet creeper</div><div>Using your high boughs </div><div>to show off my height</div><div> </div><div>If I love you --</div><div>I will never be a spoony bird</div><div>Repeating a monotonous song</div><div>for green shade</div><div><br></div><div>Or be a spring</div><div>Bringing cool solace all year long</div><div>Or be a steep peak</div><div>Increasing your stature, </div><div>Reflecting your eminence</div><div><br></div><div>Even the sunlight</div><div>Even the spring rain</div><div>No, all these are not enough</div><div> </div><div> I must be a ceiba tree beside you</div><div>Be the image of a tree </div><div>standing together with you</div><div>Our roots, entwined underground</div><div>Our leaves, touching in the clouds</div><div>With each gust of wind</div><div>We greet each other</div><div>But nobody</div><div>Can understand our words</div><div> </div><div>You'll have your copper branches </div><div>and iron trunk</div><div>Like knives, like swords, like halberds, too</div><div>I'll have my crimson flowers</div><div>Like heavy sighs</div><div>And valiant torches</div><div>We'll share cold spells, </div><div>storms and thunder</div><div>We'll share mists, hazes and rainbows</div><div>Seemingly always apart</div><div>But also forever interdependent</div><div> </div><div>Only this can be great love</div><div>The loyalty is here</div><div>Love --</div><div>I love not only your strapping stature</div><div>But also your firm stand, </div><div>the earth beneath you</div>