LilacPark 版 (精华区)
发信人: Christy (Christy), 信区: LilacPark
标 题: The Falling Lilacs in Dreams (《梦里落花》英文版)
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Tue Jul 3 17:15:32 2001), 转信
The Falling Lilacs in Dreams
Composed by Beauty
Interpreted by T C Farrell
What I prefer is those days becoming warmer and warmer accompanying the
coming spring, in which I was strolling on campus and appreciating bunches
of lyric green scattering tenderness and happiness. What I enjoy more is
just to sit down on the step, while some light fragrance of lilacs was
brought into me by the wind.
I still can remember once in the BBS of HIT called Lilac, there was a simple
but poetic piece named Whilst Opening Window in the Morning, My Nose and
Lips Were Kissed by Lilacs. Without a second thought, I was put into a
garden in that all of lilacs had been blooming in silence, together with
their aroma diffusing in the air.
If you pick up their pink petals fallen on the ground, you'll see they are
simply formed by four. No matter how carefully you look at them, they are
always so common without either gorgeous hues, or complicated shapes.
However, when you rise your head and notice the tree with full of lilacs,
her dreamlike beauty will definitely hold your breath.
The beauty of lilacs lies in its team playing, as loads of them, as a whole,
are just blooming, smiling, nodding their heads and swaying along the wind.
It is so plain, so simple, but a sort of keen power symbolizing life is
broken out that does dazzle us. If you keep staring at them for a long time,
unconsciously you would be taken into the channel of epoch.
Assuming under such trees, a pretty maiden should have been dancing there on
bare feet. Petals of lilacs were falling aside her while wind was passing
by. When she felt tired, she just lay down on the ground fully covered by
petals, slowly chewed aromatic fallen flowers and admired the moonlit sky
painted behind lilacs in tranquility.
Assuming under such trees, a juvenile in white should have been standing
there, with hands clasped behind back. Watching the lilacs, he was reciting
in undertones,
No bird brings me any hope from outside the rack,
Only clove hitch represents my sadness in rain.
Apparently, his young eyes didn't agree to his words, since from which smile
was being released.
Assuming under such trees, a pair of innocent playmates should have been
laughing there in the wind of spring. He wove twigs into bracelets, necklace
and laurel for her. Her charming face was so ingenuous through layers of
lilacs, still not was she aware that he'd treated her as the bride in his
young dreams.
Assuming under such trees, a beautiful lady should have been there while
wrinkling her eyebrows slightly. Petals of lilacs were being plucked down
slowly, then fastened in front of the man's coat, since he was about to
march far away from her with full of energy and a brave heart. She,
therefore, treated each petal as the bless as well as the anticipation to
him, which would be accompanying him, forever to the other tip of the world.
Assuming under such trees, a young married woman should have been waiting
there anxiously for her husband, who might appear in the end of the road
soon as he was coming back. Every sunrise drove her to be of happiness, and
every sunset threw her into sadness. Day by day, waiting and waiting, life
was sweeping her like pieces of sobbing wind.
Assuming under such trees, several olds should have been sitting there.
Picking up polished, hence shiny chessmen in hands, they were totally
concentrating in the game as excitement, sigh and slight disappointment were
shifting quickly on face. Petals of lilacs were falling down spontaneously
and simultaneously, together with their aroma frequently sent by the olds'
laugh.
Under such trees, I sat down with embraced knees, and was strolling in the
river of epoch, by which I felt pleased, then turned into being sad suddenly
in minds. The ancients once said, "bunches of clove hitches fully contained
regret," and "it was clove hitches that caused bitterness", since they
believed that mourning was growing from them. It is true that you will feel
bitter when chewing their petals. However, I am really wondering if beauty
is made from its bitterness, thousands of twisting boughs and wrapping
twigs.
A dream did come to me at that night, in which lilacs were falling down,
hence rain was produced…
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