If I love you --

Not like the scrambling trumpet creeper，

To flaunt myself by your high branches;

If I love you --

I will never be a spoony bird，

Repeating the monotone song for shade;

Also not just like a fountain，

Perennial cool comfort;

Not like the perilous peak，

Increase your height， set off your straightness.

Even the sunlight.

Even the spring rain.

No， these are not enough!

I must be a kapok，

As a tree standing together with you.

Root， firmly in the ground;

Leaf， touched in the cloud.

A gust of wind，

We greet each other，

But no one，

Understand our words.

You have your iron trunk，

Like a knife， a sword， as well as a halberd;

I have my red flowers，

Like a heavy sigh，

And a heroic torch.

We share cold， wind and thunder， thunder;

We share mist， mist， rainbow.

As if forever separate，

But depend on each other for life.

This is the great love，

Firm in here:

Love， not only love your great body，

Also love the position you insist， the land under your feet.