（1）Isn’t it ?
Isn’t every whisper
made out of a sound?
Isn’t every rain
made out of a drop?
Isn’t every love
made out of a heart?
Isn’t every life
made out of a fight?
Isn’t it enough … ?
岂非
岂非 每人都在低语，
用声音去传递？
岂非 每场骤雨，
皆是水的委屈？
岂非 一切的爱，
不曾走心？
岂非 每一个生灵，
皆是拼搏的插曲？
这些 难道都毫无道理？
（2）It’s pouring droplets of sky’s tears
It’s raining so hard.
Everything went blur.
There's no color in sight:
every single thing turned gray.
Melancholia predominates -
becomes the only drain valve.
Someone once have said:
"Maybe that’s the sky crying for us".
Who knows, it may even be true -
and therein lies the secret of that enigma:
It’s pouring droplets of sky’s tears -
what else could we expect all things considered ?
天泪抛洒
雨 如此汹汹，
一切 皆变朦胧。
眼前 不见任何色彩：
所有 都是幻化了灰蒙。
忧郁的排泄-
竟成唯一的阀门。
有人曾说：
“或者垂泪的 是爱我们的天空”。
谁又可知 甚至可能是真——
而这 就是这个谜团的暗影：
天泪抛洒——
我们 尚要期待什么来平衡？
（3）The brutal truth
Sometimes life is treating you
in a brutal, sweeping manner
and- with shimmering precision-
removes happiness from beings.
Pulling the rug from under your feet:
it leaves you breathless,
gnawed to the bare bones,
rendering you entirely speechless.
And, what can you actually do?
Get on your feet, dust yourself up,
arm yourself with everything you have -
and keep struggling for your deserving life !
残忍之现状
有时 生活待你，
将野蛮 作彻底。
用细腻的薙刀——
把幸福 自命运中转移。
釜底抽薪：
让人 接近窒息；
如食你骨，
还能令你 无声无息。
所以 你可以如何相对？
唯有站起 然后掸掸身上的灰粒。
一切拥有 皆是武装的利器——
继续拼搏 为了值得的此昔！
