长的是磨难,短的是人生。
The long one is suffering while the short one is life.
——《利比亚的黄昏》
——Twilight in Libya
雨是不需要水的,鱼是属于水的。
Rain doesn't need water. Fish belong to water.
沙漏如时间般簌簌流动。记忆像一张受了潮的唱片,走了音的旋律,散发着樟脑淡淡的香气,湮没了整个下午。雨天,鱼儿总是很高兴的。但是,雨总是很少的。
The hourglass flows like time. The memory is like a record that has been affected by the tide, the melody that has gone, sending out the light fragrance of camphor, obliterating the whole afternoon. On rainy days, the fish are always happy. However, there is always little rain.
雨天是一个没有主角的故事。无尽的哭诉,缠绵的情节,淡淡的描绘,湿湿的心情。它像一个传说,似乎很遥远,很纯净。雨里的阳光亦很美。没有燥热,没有庸懒,只剩下悠悠的温存。
Rainy day is a story without a protagonist. Endless crying, lingering plot, light description, wet mood. It's like a legend, it seems very far away, very pure. The sunshine in the rain is also beautiful. There is no dry heat, no indolence, only long warmth.
鱼儿爱水,水中的鱼儿总与雨一样地欢快。我看见它们在笑,笑得喘不过气来。充满着笑声的水泡,晃晃悠悠地浮上来,然后“哧”的一声化成了无数银铃般的碎片。接下来,便是它们的世界。
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