(1)
In me the tiger sniffs the rose.
There is a tiger in my heart, sniffing the roses.
(2)
You have your brass branches and iron trunks,
Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd;
I have my red flowers,
Like a heavy sigh,
And like a heroic torch.
We share the cold waves, wind and thunder, and thunder;
We share mist, liulan, and hauni.
As if separated forever,
But they are dependent on each other for life.
Here lies the constancy:
Not only do I love your majestic body,
I also love the position you insist on,
The ground beneath your feet.
My heart has been dedicated to faith, and my brain will always be yours.
(3)
I give you the loyalty of a man who has never had faith,
I give you the core of myself that I have managed to preserve—the core that is untouched by words, untraded by dreams, untouched by time, joy, and adversity.
I give you the memory of a yellow rose I saw one evening many years before you were born.
I give you your own interpretations, your own theories, your own real and amazing news.
I give you my loneliness, my darkness, my heart's hunger; I try to impress you with confusion, danger, failure.
— — — — — — — — — — — —
She is like moonlight, the soothing cloud in his heart.
In a strange world, in an era of war, I present a funeral song.
(I am a newbie and student. This article is slow to gain popularity and updates slowly. There are still some shortcomings. The writing is immature. I am deeply sorry. I have always believed that love is not a combination of two, but should also have an independent individual. Thank you for clicking and reading.)