The memory of those storms, those Dazhao San people, those who splash of white mud cloth shoes, those slippery aisle, those crystal tears wet hair, with the advent of light disappear.
那些在风雨中的记忆,那些打着伞的人,那些溅泥的白布鞋,那些湿滑的过道,那些晶莹的眼泪潮湿的发,随着光明的到来而消失。
We give up, painted white memory, thought can disguise the beauty of have no evil.
我们在放弃,涂白了记忆,以为就可以伪装无邪的美丽。
We are giving up, painted white memory, thought that you can disguise the beauty of innocence.
我们在放弃,涂白了记忆,以为就可以伪装无邪的美丽。
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