当你老了,青丝成灰,充满睡意,在炉边打盹时,请取下这部诗作,慢慢读,读出你昔日眉目之柔和,细细品,品出你眼中深深的阴郁;多少人爱过你娇艳美好的时光,以真心或假意,慕恋你的俏俊,只有一个人爱你那圣洁的灵魂,爱你衰老的容颜上遍布的哀伤;在熊熊的炉火旁,你弯下身躯,凄然地低声哀诉,爱怎么消散,消散在高处,在茫茫群山之巅,把他的脸藏于繁星闪烁的天宇。 When you are old, when the ash becomes gray, full of sleepiness, when you nap at the fireside, please take this poem and read it slowly. Read out the softness and detail of your former eyebrows, and cherish the darkness in your eyes. How many people have loved your tender and beautiful time, with sincerity or pretentiousness, love you so cute, only one person loves your holy soul and loves the grief on your aging face; beside the roaring fire, you Bending down, he whispered in a whispered manner, how the love dissipated, dissipated in high places, at the top of the mountains, and hid his face in the starry sky.