Can you post the English version? I enjoy it very much!回覆刪除
Thank you! Here's the English original:回覆刪除
She remembers how she grew up,
as a homing pigeon remembers its route.
She remembers her first day of school,
the color of the teacher’s coat,
the seesaw and her mom’s shadow.
She remembers the broken acoustic guitar
played dissonantly by her brother;
the pair of shoes that made her happy,
and how she danced with them
and forgot the steps. She remembers
why she did not make a wish or almost cry
when she first saw meteors streak the sky.
She remembers she had wished
her future could be like a hummingbird.
Future does not fly or stop abruptly.
It comes slowly.
Sometimes it does not accelerate.
Sometimes it does, before it is too late.
How it happened she does not remember,
as a book forgets its author.
Love is not an event;
it exists without happening.
But she will never forget the tent
in which laughter danced like butterflies
and danced with them to as far as they went.
And the train to a distant town.
And the strangers they met together.
And the small things in the same box they gathered.
And the misunderstandings and understandings with no sound.
She also remembers that she was so young.
Her memories in their box,
as well as in her own.
She has come to believe that
perhaps, now, future memories can be grown.