The moment last year, the spring breeze leaped up the ears.
We ran in the sea of flowers, like children of time.
Spring, divided its spring,
But we enjoyed ours together.
Every inch of it, we didn't have to hide.
The moment this year, the spring cold elsewhere is still in place.
The Tomb-Sweeping Day of the home garden is far out of reach.
You are under the peach blossoms from the rain.
For the sky you look up.
For the looking up, you cannot hear my murmur.
No rush,I'm talking nonsense.
It is nothing to do with the light green branches,
Nor the little walking paths in depth.
It's just your forbearing gaze,
And my after-thawing sigh.
We ran in the sea of flowers, like children of time.
Spring, divided its spring,
But we enjoyed ours together.
Every inch of it, we didn't have to hide.
The moment this year, the spring cold elsewhere is still in place.
The Tomb-Sweeping Day of the home garden is far out of reach.
You are under the peach blossoms from the rain.
For the sky you look up.
For the looking up, you cannot hear my murmur.
No rush,I'm talking nonsense.
It is nothing to do with the light green branches,
Nor the little walking paths in depth.
It's just your forbearing gaze,
And my after-thawing sigh.
注释:
The Charm, Metaphor of Time
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