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名人语录:几米的经典语录

名人语录:几米的经典语录


我用力抓紧世界,最终却仍被世界淘汰。
如果一开始就松手,我的痛苦会不会少些?
i held tight to the world, but rejected.
if i had saved the effort, would the pain be less?
她一直坚持宁缺毋滥,相信最好的值得耐心等待。
偏偏最后掉下的红苹果,通常是酸的。
而惊心动魄的伟大爱情,通常不是等来的。
she has been patient, believing the best is worth the wait.
yet the last apple fallen from the tree is usually sour.
the love that rocks your soul is hardly the result of a long wait.
总希望在风雨欲来的时候,抱紧一些不想放弃的想法。
we just can‘t let go, when the storm is ahead.
静静聆听内心世界的声音,常常有令人欢喜的旋律响起。
可以简单、可以深沉,可以抒情、可以喧闹...
listen quietly, to the sound of your heart. cheerful melodies may rise.

some simple, some profound, some gentle, some loud.
现实的残酷,幸福的易逝。
看不见的,是不是就等于不存在?记住的,是不是永远不会消失?
cruelty of reality. volatile happiness.
those out of sight, are they really not there? those remembered, will they last forever?
刻下爱的见证的小树,已长成大树。
而我们狂热的恋情,早随风飘散。
小小的印记,变成巨大的伤痕。
风起时,我听见整个森林的叹息……
the sapling that bears our mark of love has grown into a big tree,
but our once fervent love is lost forever in the wind.
the little mark has become a scar.
when the wind blows, we hear the sigh of the forest...
爱到极致,我已变得盲目。

在幸福的峰巅,谁还记得住爱神的电话号码,谁还记得住周围许多有趣的日子。
the culmination of love is blindness.
who, at the peak of happiness, can remember the number of cupid, or any of the fun days around.
我们早就约定了,要以最慵懒的姿势,恍惚地面对这个世界。
as we promised, to face the world drowsily in our most languid positions.
迷宫般的城市,让人习惯看相同的景物,走相同的路线,到相同的目的地...
a conundrum of a city. same scenes, same routes, and same destinies...
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我用力抓紧世界,最终却仍被世界淘汰。
如果一开始就松手,我的痛苦会不会少些?
她一直坚持宁缺毋滥,相信最好的值得耐心等待。
偏偏最后掉下的红苹果,通常是酸的。
而惊心动魄的伟大爱情,通常不是等来的。
总希望在风雨欲来的时候,抱紧一些不想放弃的想法。
静静聆听内心世界的声音,常常有令人欢喜的旋律响起。
可以简单、可以深沉,可以抒情、可以喧闹...

现实的残酷,幸福的易逝。
看不见的,是不是就等于不存在?记住的,是不是永远不会消失?
刻下爱的见证的小树,已长成大树。
而我们狂热的恋情,早随风飘散。
小小的印记,变成巨大的伤痕。
风起时,我听见整个森林的叹息……
爱到极致,我已变得盲目。

在幸福的峰巅,谁还记得住爱神的电话号码,谁还记得住周围许多有趣的日子。
我们早就约定了,要以最慵懒的姿势,恍惚地面对这个世界。
迷宫般的城市,让人习惯看相同的景物,走相同的路线,到相同的目的地...

i held tight to the world, but rejected.
if i had saved the effort, would the pain be less?
she has been patient, believing the best is worth the wait.
yet the last apple fallen from the tree is usually sour.
the love that rocks your soul is hardly the result of a long wait.
we just can‘t let go, when the storm is ahead.
listen quietly, to the sound of your heart. cheerful melodies may rise.
some simple, some profound, some gentle, some loud.
cruelty of reality. volatile happiness.
those out of sight, are they really not there? those remembered, will they last forever?
the sapling that bears our mark of love has grown into a big tree,
but our once fervent love is lost forever in the wind.
the little mark has become a scar.
when the wind blows, we hear the sigh of the forest...
the culmination of love is blindness.
who, at the peak of happiness, can remember the number of cupid, or any of the fun days around.
as we promised, to face the world drowsily in our most languid positions.
a conundrum of a city. same scenes, same routes, and same destinies...

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