English version of "I am waiting for you-Xu Zhimo"

I want you to heal the pain in my heart, I want you to smile like a flame, I want your flexible waist, and you shoot meteors from the corner of your eyes; I am immersed in the intoxicated atmosphere, like an island, in the green tide of pythons, attached to the changes .................................................................................................................................................. Why don't you come? Be tough! You clearly know, I know you know, your failure to come here is a fatal blow to me, killing the spring that I put for the first time in my life, teaching the darkness as iron as ore in the solid, oppressing my thoughts and breathing; Killing the poor hope, I, like a prisoner, pay the atrocities of jealousy and anxiety, shame and despair. Maybe this is crazy. Unexpected, maybe crazy. I believe I must be crazy; But I can't carry a directional rudder, and the winds and winds don't allow me to hesitate-I can't turn back, and fate is whipping me! I also know that this is mostly the road to deconstruction, but for you, for you, I am willing to do anything; This is not only my passion, but also my reason. This is crazy! Want to dismember the broken fiber of life is to touch a woman's heart! Want to win, can win, at most, is a drop of her tears, her indifferent sneer; But I also want to, even if the news of my broken bones reaches the crevices, she will treat me as a mouse and a snail in a hole in the ground, and I will! For the truth, madness is unconditional. Sometimes God can't recall madness to decide that the heart also recalls soldiers who are already on the verge of death. However, everything is in vain. However, although it is undeniable that you don't come, there is a burning fire in my heart, hungry for everything you send, your smile, your hands and feet; No crazy thoughts and prayers can narrow the distance between you and me! The outdoor light yellow has been condensed into darkness all night, the branches are hung with ice and snow, the birds are singing normally, and silence is the same universe in mourning. The hands on the clock are constantly comparing mysterious gestures, such as command, sympathy and ridicule. Every time I am moved, I hear the death knell of my heart buried alive.