【记录】此事无关风月
我特高冷……矮冷。
然后，就教我什么问题展开激烈讨论。
好吧……就两句。
不过，历史什么鬼？！
桥豆麻袋。
最近被逼得在**路线越走越远。
然后，就教我什么问题展开激烈讨论。
好吧……就两句。
不过，历史什么鬼？！
桥豆麻袋。
最近被逼得在**路线越走越远。
师父是个蛮暖的人。
知道师父籍贯。
嫌弃他普通话不软。
我说我得多和江苏的小姐姐连麦。
他说，为什么。
因为你声音太直我被带过去怎么办？！
然后……
？！！！！！
贼苏了，软爆了。
有种，怎么说，叫床的感觉？
话说。师父父是在宿舍，不被嫌弃吗。
心疼他。
知道师父籍贯。
嫌弃他普通话不软。
我说我得多和江苏的小姐姐连麦。
他说，为什么。
因为你声音太直我被带过去怎么办？！
然后……
？！！！！！
贼苏了，软爆了。
有种，怎么说，叫床的感觉？
话说。师父父是在宿舍，不被嫌弃吗。
心疼他。
I. 6: 23 A.M.
It was 6:23 A.M. in the morning,
I felt tides receding;
It was 6:23 A.M. in the morning,
I heard sounds echoing.
I opened the bright window,
Saw the dawn collecting all the luminous stars with its very childlike hands.
Sounds of footsteps came from the kitchen,
Along with the tinkling noise created by the metal pots and pans,
The air was then filled with the smell of sweet sesame.
“ It is too warm,”
I often told my grandmother so.
To me，
It was like an endless dream,
As we were hiding behind this tiny Fruit Market:
Time no longer glided past the blades of grass;
The pendulum of Sun stopped behind layers of clouds,
Never reconnected itself with dusk or dawn.
It was their spot in this market,
Eight square meters,
Leftmost columns，
Near the cement wall,
The second stall.
The place was piled with dark brown paper boxes,
Packed with smell, color, different forms,
All from the nature.
Shouts scared few sparrows resting on the wall,
Children hid their dirty little faces behind the paper boxes.
The days just repeated themselves,
And these made us feel satisfied.
After several years,
I left this place with my bare feet like a waif,
Realizing the hardness of rocks on the road,
The coldness I felt in the blowing snow,
The hotness I felt under the burning sun.
Therefore，
I started to treasure the memories related to that dream —
With the waves billowing under the sapphire canopy,
With the sea holding the new-born sun in its palm,
With that tiny Fruit Market,
As they appeared in the same way as years ago in my memory.
I wanted to turn the currant-red Waxberry—
into the fresh blooms of summer.
I want to turn the apricot-orange Persimmon—
into the dew of autumn.
I want to turn the golden-yellow kiwi—
into the branches of winter.
That tiny Fruit Market,
Was my home with sweet aroma.
It was 6:23 A.M. in the morning,
I felt tides receding;
It was 6:23 A.M. in the morning,
I heard sounds echoing.
I opened the bright window,
Saw the dawn collecting all the luminous stars with its very childlike hands.
Sounds of footsteps came from the kitchen,
Along with the tinkling noise created by the metal pots and pans,
The air was then filled with the smell of sweet sesame.
“ It is too warm,”
I often told my grandmother so.
To me，
It was like an endless dream,
As we were hiding behind this tiny Fruit Market:
Time no longer glided past the blades of grass;
The pendulum of Sun stopped behind layers of clouds,
Never reconnected itself with dusk or dawn.
It was their spot in this market,
Eight square meters,
Leftmost columns，
Near the cement wall,
The second stall.
The place was piled with dark brown paper boxes,
Packed with smell, color, different forms,
All from the nature.
Shouts scared few sparrows resting on the wall,
Children hid their dirty little faces behind the paper boxes.
The days just repeated themselves,
And these made us feel satisfied.
After several years,
I left this place with my bare feet like a waif,
Realizing the hardness of rocks on the road,
The coldness I felt in the blowing snow,
The hotness I felt under the burning sun.
Therefore，
I started to treasure the memories related to that dream —
With the waves billowing under the sapphire canopy,
With the sea holding the new-born sun in its palm,
With that tiny Fruit Market,
As they appeared in the same way as years ago in my memory.
I wanted to turn the currant-red Waxberry—
into the fresh blooms of summer.
I want to turn the apricot-orange Persimmon—
into the dew of autumn.
I want to turn the golden-yellow kiwi—
into the branches of winter.
That tiny Fruit Market,
Was my home with sweet aroma.
刚刚发现了申精贴。
悄悄咪咪收藏。
虽然，我觉得，以我懒癌晚期来看，说不定……哪天就不更了。
但，梦想总归是要有的。
好了，两点了。
明天，五点半有人叫我起床。
我估计，叫不醒。
先意思意思心疼下那位。
然后，我真的要，睡了！
悄悄咪咪收藏。
虽然，我觉得，以我懒癌晚期来看，说不定……哪天就不更了。
但，梦想总归是要有的。
好了，两点了。
明天，五点半有人叫我起床。
我估计，叫不醒。
先意思意思心疼下那位。
然后，我真的要，睡了！