I often read the poems I learned in high school textbooks with Yaoyao in the corridor, with the breeze blowing, her words and mine. It was a very beautiful time. I have always loved reciting, and I recorded an audio clip a few days ago just to commemorate our love for poetry at that time.
Dai Wangshu, the author of "Rain Alley", held an oil-paper umbrella and wandered alone in the long, long and lonely rain alley. I hope to meet a girl who is as sad and resentful as a lilac
She is It has the same color as lilacs, the same fragrance as lilacs, and the same sadness as lilacs. She is mournful and wandering in the rain. She is wandering in this lonely rain alley holding an oil-paper umbrella, just like me, walking silently like me. She is indifferent, desolate, and melancholy. She is silent. As I came closer, I cast another breath-like look. She floated past me, like a dream, sad and confused like a dream
Like a lilac in a dream, this girl floated past me. She was silent. The ground is far away, so far away that the crumbling fence has disappeared. This rainy alley has disappeared in the mournful song of the rain. Her color has dispersed, her fragrance has dissipated, and even her eyes are as melancholy as lilacs.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I wander alone in the long, long and lonely rainy alley. I hope that a girl with a lilac-like complexion will pass by.