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初恋的感觉 Feelings Of The First Love

初恋的感觉 Feelings Of The First Love

I never was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart way complete
My face turned pale as dealy pale
My legs refused to walk away
And when she looked" what could I ail?".
My life and all seemed turned to clay.
我在这之前从未如此之震惊
这份爱情是如此的突然如此的甜蜜
她的脸庞像一朵盛开的鲜花
将我的心儿全部个的偷走了
我的脸颊变得像死者似地苍白
我的腿再也迈步不出任何步伐
但当她看我的时候我怎能感到丝毫的痛苦
我的生命以及一切都变的犹如黄土
And took my eyesight qyite away.
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing.
Words from my eyes did start.
They spoke as chords do from the string
将我的视线缓缓的离开
绿树与灌木环绕着这里
午夜犹如白日
我看不见别的什么了
我的双目在诉说
这话语一如丝弦上的妙音
And blood burnt round my heart.
Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice
And love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face.
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return on more.
我的心中的沸腾的血液燃烧成灰
难道爱的冰床只是白雪?
她似乎听到了无声的诉求
这份爱渴望得到她的回应
因为我从未见过如此甜美的脸庞
我像以前一样站着
我的心已离开了躯体
永无归期

我在这之前从未如此之震惊
这份爱情是如此的突然如此的甜蜜
她的脸庞像一朵盛开的鲜花
将我的心儿全部个的偷走了
我的脸颊变得像死者似地苍白
我的腿再也迈步不出任何步伐
但当她看我的时候我怎能感到丝毫的痛苦
我的生命以及一切都变的犹如黄土
And took my eyesight qyite away.
将我的视线缓缓的离开
绿树与灌木环绕着这里
午夜犹如白日
我看不见别的什么了
我的双目在诉说
这话语一如丝弦上的妙音
And blood burnt round my heart.
我的心中的沸腾的血液燃烧成灰
难道爱的冰床只是白雪?
她似乎听到了无声的诉求
这份爱渴望得到她的回应
因为我从未见过如此甜美的脸庞
我像以前一样站着
我的心已离开了躯体
I never was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart way complete
My face turned pale as dealy pale
My legs refused to walk away
And when she looked" what could I ail?".
My life and all seemed turned to clay.
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing.
Words from my eyes did start.
They spoke as chords do from the string
Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice
And love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face.
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return on more.
永无归期

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