We couldn’t resist the wildness brought by Tristan’s horse riding from the wilderness, we couldn’t prevent Alfred from standing out from the crowd with the aura of civilization, we couldn’t stop the simple Samuel from walking towards the flames of war he didn’t understand and losing his life. The screenwriter chose Susan. To bear all this, on her time coordinate, the colonel’s three sons fell one after another, but everyone was burdened with her unfulfilled hope, stuck with a lifetime of love, hatred and waiting, unable to be in the whirlpool of time and destiny. Extricate yourself.
The breath of freedom is cruel, and Tristan is flowing with bear's blood, chasing his own impulse. The man crying bitterly in front of Samuel's grave has long hair fluttering and tenderness. It is difficult for any woman to escape such affectionate cowardice, and Susan is no exception. Falling in love with wild freedom means accepting his cruel choice, "Even if I have a child, do you still want to leave?" Tristan barely hesitated to turn on his horse, leaving his shirking lover in the dust. He loves her, I firmly believe. However, the nature of freedom is above everything, including one's own life, so how can you take care of the happiness of love? Year after year of waiting, only inexplicable things are sent from isolated islands or wasteland, and there are overwhelming loneliness and deep-rooted despair. She had never thought that there would be a reunion, "forever too far", this is Susan's excuse, because the waiting end that she thought would never be reached unexpectedly appeared. I can totally feel her regret and surprise. Fate is so teasing. Little Isabel’s dress and Samuel sitting on Tristan’s neck playing with her, it was originally hers. After all those years of hopeless waiting, To endure the sorrow of giving away lovers and dreams.
There is our own shadow flowing in susan. Because of love and dreams, we choose to persist. Because our ideals are too far away, we have to give up. Because we are not vulgar people who follow our own inner voice firmly, we can’t persist from childhood like Isabel. It's my man" and stubbornly waited until that day. Perhaps, time makes another joke, let us, like susan, always miss the one we love, and always pass by the most beautiful dreams, so we believe in fate and waiting, from crying and jealous to laughing and envious, comforting ourselves Plainness is the truth.
And those roaring voices, suppressed in the bottom of my heart, always sounded constantly in the middle of the night, so falling in love with the legend of autumn in a foreign country was moved by my own burning years.
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