我的一个道姑朋友

While you opened the umbrella and held me in your arms.
Every word and promise was so clear.
All the tender feelings in your eyes.
Was like spring breeze which can melt snow and ice.
Along the alley was furious spring of that year.
When we were riding horses,and the misty rain was like a dream.
Under shelter from the rain,
and looked into the eyes deeply.
I was feeling like mountain breeze with sprinkling snow.
The rain was cool.
And the wind blows over with hazy fragrance.
Heartbeat of that moment,was like your sword dance.
Smart and graceful.
I guess love the word is always empty.
Every inch we should be hesitating and giving.
We are always willing to be humble for a smile.
Or even become mediocrity.
While you opened the umbrella and held me in your arms.
Every word and promise was so clear.
All the tender feelings in your eyes.
Was like spring breeze which can melt snow and ice.
Then I met you on the ceremony.
When the beautiful girl beside you,and red candles glowing.
The lantern is soft.
Soft and casting light on the pretty faces.
Like a gentle dream in me old days.
You didn’t recognize me.
While my memories keep pumping out,
You were in white robe,with cold looking on face.
Who knows how surprised I was?
Maybe I should pretend to be drunk,and,
Kiss you when in your arms.
Then tell about the old things of ours.
Just ignore the others.
But all I can do is to smile calmly.
And listen to the sweet love words.
Try not to see the familiar face.
Keep on drinking,with more indifference.
Down the mountain,the white snow swept over my coat, and melt on my fingertip. Sword on back,where should I go,in this complicated world?
Until now in my life,I have been like a joke,ridiculed even by myself.
It was my own wishful thinking,begin well but end badly.
If you felt in love with others,
Why involved me into the wrong love game.
Unless you would better see this,when I lost my soul ?
Fortunately I’ve witnessed all the love and hate,and my heart is hurt long ago. How would I fear of your heartless blade.
To get one more cut on it?
It’s not painful anyway.
I would rather bury the past in the wind.
With my sword for tombstone,with frost and snow for grave.
If it’s a mistake that I came across you in this lifetime.
Please as least end me well.
Alone I ride my horse passing the old bridge.
It happen to be a misty whether before mountain rain.
Think of our embrace under the umbrella of the old days.
I feel like lying on the bridge and having a dream.
When wake up I fall,break and die away,without trace.。