It is perhaps my pillow, and moist for many years, that piece of pebbles, not blue, but a true black, and loaded with my sorrow.
它或许是我枕边的，温润了许多年的，那块鹅卵石，不是蓝色的，而是纯黑的，盛载着我的忧伤。
When my brother died, the experience it brought me was great -not the sorrow- sorrow is momentary and passes away, but the joy of experience remains.
当我弟弟死的时候，它带给我的经历是巨大的，不是那个悲伤-悲伤是暂时的，过去了，而那个经历的快乐留下了。
There is a nameless sorrow and grief rushed to my mind, as if a heavy heart, I restrain my tears, do not let it flow out.
有一种莫名的酸楚冲上我的心头，心仿佛沉重了，我抑制住我的泪，不让它流出来。
There is a nameless sorrow and grief rushed to my mind, as if a heavy heart, I restrain my tears, do not let it flow out.
有一种莫名的酸楚冲上我的心头，心仿佛沉重了，我抑制住我的泪，不让它流出来。
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