Hundred-year-old locust tree.
Do you still remember.
Inadvertently, we met.
How young we were.
How nostalgic we are for the hundred-year-old locust tree outside the village.
Our singing is accompanied by the romance of spring flowers.
Our mood is accompanied by the sweetness of the sunset.
And yet it was also under that old locust tree.
We put on a puzzle that we couldn't get rid of.
We gave reasons that we couldn't explain.
I vividly remember that we parted in tears.
I would think about it for a long time in my mind.
Our choice is right or wrong.
Maybe that's when it's time for us to move forward rather than retreat.
Slowly, gradually.
I learned and learned to straighten out my emotions.
Deeply, I put you.
And the old locust tree that has been with us day and night.
They all cherish it in the bottom of their hearts.
I want to keep my dreams warm.
Now I'm back here.
Twenty degrees of spring and autumn, the hundred-year-old locust tree seems to be the same.
I can't help but think of you.
I don't know if you've been here again or if you remember me.
Oh, I can see it clearly.
Under the old locust tree is now a fork in the road.
I know how times have passed, and I understand the vicissitudes of time.
I still feel my blood go cold all at once.
Providence is still gratuitous coincidence.
Clenched my fists, I smashed the thick and rugged body of the old locust tree.
Head straight to the thick green canopy.
Please give me the answer"My tone was almost utterly angry.
The old locust tree is speechless, my heart is going to break.
Who would have thought that my warm dreams would become sad.
Alas, I was the same you.
If you haven't been here again.
How I wish you didn't come.
Because I've felt it.
The old locust tree is only the most beautiful in memory.
The text is not strange, October 12, 2008).