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Qing Ping Le
Author: Huang Tingjian
Where will spring return?
there is no road to loneliness.
if anyone knows where to go in spring,
ask him to come back and live with him.
there is no trace of spring.
unless you ask an oriole.
No one can solve it,
Because the wind flies over the rose.
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rose, rose, red rose,
little rose in the wilderness.
The boy said, "I'm coming to pick you,
Rose in the wilderness!" "
Rose said, "I will stab you,
so that you will never forget it.
I don't want to be picked by you. "
rose, rose, red rose,
little rose in the wilderness.
the savage boy went to pick her,
the little rose in the wilderness;
Rose stabbed him in self-defense,
She endured tears in vain,
but she was still plucked.
rose, rose, red rose,
little rose in the wilderness.
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Author: Heine
When my heart was in love with her,
She was a rose bud;
But she grew up gradually, and
blossomed wonderfully.
She is the most beautiful rose in the country.
I tried to pick this rose.
But she knew how to use her thorn.
She gave me a vicious stab.
Now, after the rain and the wind,
she has withered, fallen and haggard-
I am now a famous Henry,
she came to me,
infinitely reluctant.
Henry in front,
Henry in the back,
Now her voice has a beautiful tone:
If there is anything that stings me now,
It's a mole on the beauty's chin.