求帮忙中文故事翻译成英文,急!!!
男孩每次放学从那小道下走过,都听到一段段清晰的钢琴音。男孩不懂音乐,不知道那些乐曲叫什么名字,只是对那种飘渺而遥远的琴声有种触动。或许男孩喜欢伤感,总觉得,那些音符似在诉...
男孩每次放学从那小道下走过,都听到一段段清晰的钢琴音。男孩不懂音乐,不知道那些乐曲叫什么名字,只是对那种飘渺而遥远的琴声有种触动。或许男孩喜欢伤感,总觉得,那些音符似在诉说些什么,如此动耳。
男孩知道那些声音是从那一扇3楼的窗里传出的,他每次路过,都站到窗下路边,抬起头,望着那扇被米白色窗帘掩盖的窗。不论是微吹过的风,还是窗主人的手,都不曾为他撩起过那摆动的窗帘。
他每次都要驻足那么一会,他从不刻意去寻找,只是习惯好的时间,习惯好的生活,一次次的路过。他的心里会随着窗帘摇摆过,但他从没去猜想过,谁在后面把手指放在琴键上。
正如说,平行线的轨迹也可能会改变。很偶然的,男孩在楼下见到了弹琴的人,她就是个很纯粹的小姑娘,穿着妈妈买的碎花童裙,梳着妈妈扎的两根安静的小辫,对着叔叔阿姨她会很礼貌的甜甜一笑,很乖的神情,很腼腆的眼神。男孩没什么想法,他没去认识她,没问过她的名字,没跟她说声HI,他并不想去认识一个陌生的女孩,只是,他记住了她。依旧重复生活的轨迹,倾听那熟悉不过又陌生不过的琴音。
时过景迁,岁月流洗。没什么特别的理由,只是世界从来不会为某一个间隙定格。从某一天起,窗底下没再传出琴声,楼底下不再有人侧耳倾听。没有人去想过,或者问过,这是为什么。生活就是各自多彩,各自在变,每个人都只会重新投入自己的生活中去,不再过问。
男孩在高中遇到了女孩,他们刚好在一个班上。女孩剪了个很流行的中长发型,刘海碎碎,顺着右边渐渐斜着延伸。她不是个爱笑的人,也不会装酷,她有她亲好的朋友,对着不熟悉的人则不屑去干预。她和一般的同学一样,在一个叛逆的年纪,自私,喜欢玩,疯癫的玩乐,然后紧张的抄一份作业交上。
男孩知道她就是那个弹琴的女孩,莫名的,心里有种温度。他开始接近她,关心她,喜爱她。只当是缘分,只当是恰巧相爱。女孩接受了他。他们很单纯的爱着对方,给与你担心,快乐,忧伤,眷恋。问个问题,为什么你喜欢我?
习惯了每天给你一个问候,习惯了每天给你一个微笑,习惯了互相温暖。他们习惯了爱彼此。
很偶尔的某一天,男孩来到女孩家里,看见窗边的钢琴。问她,弹一个歌好么。她打开琴盖,早已琴夕尘封。她生硬的敲了几个不成调的音,无奈的说,都好久不弹了,忘光了,小时候妈妈和老师逼着弹的。轻轻甩手,把琴盖合上,只听见厚厚的尘,一声哑然闷响。
也许很多时我们都以为故事都有一个开头,才知道那只是臆想。我以为那是我的理由,其实那从未存在过。眼向路前,我们记得望过的季节记得走过的沥青,任两旁路障过往,方知踏向前方,与回头无关。 展开
男孩知道那些声音是从那一扇3楼的窗里传出的,他每次路过,都站到窗下路边,抬起头,望着那扇被米白色窗帘掩盖的窗。不论是微吹过的风,还是窗主人的手,都不曾为他撩起过那摆动的窗帘。
他每次都要驻足那么一会,他从不刻意去寻找,只是习惯好的时间,习惯好的生活,一次次的路过。他的心里会随着窗帘摇摆过,但他从没去猜想过,谁在后面把手指放在琴键上。
正如说,平行线的轨迹也可能会改变。很偶然的,男孩在楼下见到了弹琴的人,她就是个很纯粹的小姑娘,穿着妈妈买的碎花童裙,梳着妈妈扎的两根安静的小辫,对着叔叔阿姨她会很礼貌的甜甜一笑,很乖的神情,很腼腆的眼神。男孩没什么想法,他没去认识她,没问过她的名字,没跟她说声HI,他并不想去认识一个陌生的女孩,只是,他记住了她。依旧重复生活的轨迹,倾听那熟悉不过又陌生不过的琴音。
时过景迁,岁月流洗。没什么特别的理由,只是世界从来不会为某一个间隙定格。从某一天起,窗底下没再传出琴声,楼底下不再有人侧耳倾听。没有人去想过,或者问过,这是为什么。生活就是各自多彩,各自在变,每个人都只会重新投入自己的生活中去,不再过问。
男孩在高中遇到了女孩,他们刚好在一个班上。女孩剪了个很流行的中长发型,刘海碎碎,顺着右边渐渐斜着延伸。她不是个爱笑的人,也不会装酷,她有她亲好的朋友,对着不熟悉的人则不屑去干预。她和一般的同学一样,在一个叛逆的年纪,自私,喜欢玩,疯癫的玩乐,然后紧张的抄一份作业交上。
男孩知道她就是那个弹琴的女孩,莫名的,心里有种温度。他开始接近她,关心她,喜爱她。只当是缘分,只当是恰巧相爱。女孩接受了他。他们很单纯的爱着对方,给与你担心,快乐,忧伤,眷恋。问个问题,为什么你喜欢我?
习惯了每天给你一个问候,习惯了每天给你一个微笑,习惯了互相温暖。他们习惯了爱彼此。
很偶尔的某一天,男孩来到女孩家里,看见窗边的钢琴。问她,弹一个歌好么。她打开琴盖,早已琴夕尘封。她生硬的敲了几个不成调的音,无奈的说,都好久不弹了,忘光了,小时候妈妈和老师逼着弹的。轻轻甩手,把琴盖合上,只听见厚厚的尘,一声哑然闷响。
也许很多时我们都以为故事都有一个开头,才知道那只是臆想。我以为那是我的理由,其实那从未存在过。眼向路前,我们记得望过的季节记得走过的沥青,任两旁路障过往,方知踏向前方,与回头无关。 展开
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The boy from each school that trail walking under, hear the piano sound clear benefits. Boys don't understand music, don't know the music call what name, and just about that misty and distant piano have seed touches. Maybe boys like sad, always think, the notes like to say what, so move ears.
The boy knew those voices from the one door of 3 buildings came out of the window, he every time pass by, all stand below the window to the side of the road, looked up and looked at the door be rice white curtains covered in the window. Whether the wind that blows micro, or window to the hand of their masters, for he never had pulled up the curtain of the swing.
Every time he stopped for a moment so, he never to seek for, just habit good time, habit, good life, and again pass by. His heart will with the curtain sway over, but he never had to guess, who in his finger on the keys behind.
As said, the parallel track also may be changing. Very accidental, boy downstairs to see the play, she is a pure girl, dressed in mother buy broken flower child skirt, comb a mother pierced the two root quiet plait, to uncle aunt she will be very polite sweet smile, lovely expressions, the shy of look in the eyes. Boy no thoughts, he didn't go to know her, never asked her name, and she didn't say HI, he didn't want to go to know a strange girl, just, he remembered her. Repeat the track of my life is still, to listen to the familiar and unfamiliar but ethereal playing.
While moving scene, years flow wash. Nothing special reason, just the world never stopped for a clearance. From a day, under the window hasn't spread the piano, under no longer someone to listen to the floor. No one thought, or asked, why this is. Their life is colorful, each change, everyone will only start his life away, and not intervene.
Boy in high school met the girl, they just in a class. The girl cut a very popular long hair style, bang broken broken, walked down the right gradually sideways extensions. She is not a love to laugh, also won't play cool, she has her close friends, to people who are not familiar with disdain to intervene. She and general classmates, in a rebellious age, selfish, like to play, insane, sleep, play, then nervous copy of a hand in work.
The boy knew she is the girl who, sort of, in the mind has a temperature. He began to close to her, care about her and love her. Ought to is fate, is just happened to love each other. The girl accept him. They simply love each other, and give you worry, happy, sad, sentimentally attached. Ask a question, why do you like me?
Used for you every day a greeting, accustomed to a day to you a smile, used to warm to each other. They used to love one another.
Very occasionally one day, the boy came to the girl's home, saw the window of the piano. Ask her, playing a song good yao. She opened the harp cover, have already harp xi dusty. She curt knocked a few a note sound, helplessly say, long time no play, forgotten, childhood mother and teacher force play. Gently stopped, the piano lid close, only hear the thick dust, a sound MenXiang was dumbfounded.
Maybe a lot of the time we all thought that story has a beginning, just know that just guesswork. I thought it was my reason, in fact that never existed. Eye to road before, we remember the past season remember at the asphalt, as roadblocks on both sides of the past, and you'll know on to the front, and not look back
应该就这吧 自己理一下思路
The boy knew those voices from the one door of 3 buildings came out of the window, he every time pass by, all stand below the window to the side of the road, looked up and looked at the door be rice white curtains covered in the window. Whether the wind that blows micro, or window to the hand of their masters, for he never had pulled up the curtain of the swing.
Every time he stopped for a moment so, he never to seek for, just habit good time, habit, good life, and again pass by. His heart will with the curtain sway over, but he never had to guess, who in his finger on the keys behind.
As said, the parallel track also may be changing. Very accidental, boy downstairs to see the play, she is a pure girl, dressed in mother buy broken flower child skirt, comb a mother pierced the two root quiet plait, to uncle aunt she will be very polite sweet smile, lovely expressions, the shy of look in the eyes. Boy no thoughts, he didn't go to know her, never asked her name, and she didn't say HI, he didn't want to go to know a strange girl, just, he remembered her. Repeat the track of my life is still, to listen to the familiar and unfamiliar but ethereal playing.
While moving scene, years flow wash. Nothing special reason, just the world never stopped for a clearance. From a day, under the window hasn't spread the piano, under no longer someone to listen to the floor. No one thought, or asked, why this is. Their life is colorful, each change, everyone will only start his life away, and not intervene.
Boy in high school met the girl, they just in a class. The girl cut a very popular long hair style, bang broken broken, walked down the right gradually sideways extensions. She is not a love to laugh, also won't play cool, she has her close friends, to people who are not familiar with disdain to intervene. She and general classmates, in a rebellious age, selfish, like to play, insane, sleep, play, then nervous copy of a hand in work.
The boy knew she is the girl who, sort of, in the mind has a temperature. He began to close to her, care about her and love her. Ought to is fate, is just happened to love each other. The girl accept him. They simply love each other, and give you worry, happy, sad, sentimentally attached. Ask a question, why do you like me?
Used for you every day a greeting, accustomed to a day to you a smile, used to warm to each other. They used to love one another.
Very occasionally one day, the boy came to the girl's home, saw the window of the piano. Ask her, playing a song good yao. She opened the harp cover, have already harp xi dusty. She curt knocked a few a note sound, helplessly say, long time no play, forgotten, childhood mother and teacher force play. Gently stopped, the piano lid close, only hear the thick dust, a sound MenXiang was dumbfounded.
Maybe a lot of the time we all thought that story has a beginning, just know that just guesswork. I thought it was my reason, in fact that never existed. Eye to road before, we remember the past season remember at the asphalt, as roadblocks on both sides of the past, and you'll know on to the front, and not look back
应该就这吧 自己理一下思路
展开全部
Since every school boy next trail walk, hear a section of clear piano sound. Boys do not understand music, those songs do not know What is the name, just that kind of misty and distant piano touch. Perhaps the boy like sad, always feel that those notes seem to tell what, so moving ears.
Those boys know the sound is a 3rd floor window since coming out, and every time he passed, stood to the side of the road under the window, looked up door is beige curtains covered the windows. Whether the wind is blowing slightly, or the owner's hand window, not who he had lifted the curtains that swing.
So every time he stopped for a while, he never bother to look, just used a good time, habits good life, a time of passing. His heart will be with the curtains swing before, but never guess he thought, who later put a finger on the keys.
As said, the trajectory of parallel lines may change. Very occasionally, the boy saw the piano downstairs, she is a very pure little girl, wearing her mother's skirt Floral child, giving her mother a quiet tie of two pigtail, aunts and uncles against her will very polite sweet smile, look well behaved, very shy eyes. Boy no idea, he did not get to know her, never asked her name, did not tell her to say HI, he did not want to know a strange girl, but he remembered her. Still repeating the life of the track, listening to that familiar and unfamiliar, but the sounds.
King moved over time, time flow wash. No particular reason, but the world never a gap for a fixed grid. From a certain day, no longer under the window came the music, not someone listened downstairs. No one thought about, or asked, why this is. Their life is colorful, each is changing, everyone will re-enter their lives to go, no longer involved.
Boy met girl in high school, they just in a class. Girl cut in a very popular type of hair, bangs broken pieces, placed at an angle along the right side gradually extended. She is not a person who love to laugh, it will not cool, she has her parents good friend, who is facing are not familiar with disdain to intervene. She and students in general, as in a rebellious age, selfish, like to play, the madness of the play, and then work hand in a tight copy.
Boys know that she is playing the girl, inexplicable, and my heart kind of temperature. He began to close to her, care for her, love her. Only when it is fate, only happens when love is. Girls to him. They love each other very simple to give you worry, happy, sad, nostalgic. Have a question, why do you like me?
Used daily to give you a greeting, used to give you a smile every day, accustomed to each other warm. They used to love each other.
Very occasionally, one day, the boy came to the girl home and saw the window of the piano. Asked her, playing a song okay. She opened the piano lid, already dusty piano evening. She knocked a few fails blunt tone of voice, but unfortunately that is a long time without playing, and forgotten, a child forced to play the mother and teacher. Gently walk away, the piano lid is closed, only to hear the thick dust, muffled sound dumb.
Maybe when we all thought a lot of the story has a beginning, before we know it is just conjecture. I thought that was my reason, in fact, it never existed. Eyes to the road, we remember before the season I remember looking through the asphalt, either both sides of the barricades in the past, we know the step to the front, nothing to do with the back.
Those boys know the sound is a 3rd floor window since coming out, and every time he passed, stood to the side of the road under the window, looked up door is beige curtains covered the windows. Whether the wind is blowing slightly, or the owner's hand window, not who he had lifted the curtains that swing.
So every time he stopped for a while, he never bother to look, just used a good time, habits good life, a time of passing. His heart will be with the curtains swing before, but never guess he thought, who later put a finger on the keys.
As said, the trajectory of parallel lines may change. Very occasionally, the boy saw the piano downstairs, she is a very pure little girl, wearing her mother's skirt Floral child, giving her mother a quiet tie of two pigtail, aunts and uncles against her will very polite sweet smile, look well behaved, very shy eyes. Boy no idea, he did not get to know her, never asked her name, did not tell her to say HI, he did not want to know a strange girl, but he remembered her. Still repeating the life of the track, listening to that familiar and unfamiliar, but the sounds.
King moved over time, time flow wash. No particular reason, but the world never a gap for a fixed grid. From a certain day, no longer under the window came the music, not someone listened downstairs. No one thought about, or asked, why this is. Their life is colorful, each is changing, everyone will re-enter their lives to go, no longer involved.
Boy met girl in high school, they just in a class. Girl cut in a very popular type of hair, bangs broken pieces, placed at an angle along the right side gradually extended. She is not a person who love to laugh, it will not cool, she has her parents good friend, who is facing are not familiar with disdain to intervene. She and students in general, as in a rebellious age, selfish, like to play, the madness of the play, and then work hand in a tight copy.
Boys know that she is playing the girl, inexplicable, and my heart kind of temperature. He began to close to her, care for her, love her. Only when it is fate, only happens when love is. Girls to him. They love each other very simple to give you worry, happy, sad, nostalgic. Have a question, why do you like me?
Used daily to give you a greeting, used to give you a smile every day, accustomed to each other warm. They used to love each other.
Very occasionally, one day, the boy came to the girl home and saw the window of the piano. Asked her, playing a song okay. She opened the piano lid, already dusty piano evening. She knocked a few fails blunt tone of voice, but unfortunately that is a long time without playing, and forgotten, a child forced to play the mother and teacher. Gently walk away, the piano lid is closed, only to hear the thick dust, muffled sound dumb.
Maybe when we all thought a lot of the story has a beginning, before we know it is just conjecture. I thought that was my reason, in fact, it never existed. Eyes to the road, we remember before the season I remember looking through the asphalt, either both sides of the barricades in the past, we know the step to the front, nothing to do with the back.
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