我喜欢将来自房子的色度的一个角落变成开着空间的完整晒焦的闪耀光。
I like turning a corner from the shade of a house into the full torrid glare of an open space.
从他们疲惫而遥动的步伐中，从他们被太阳晒焦的脸上，可以看出他们远道而来。
From their fatigued yet swinging gait, and from their sun-burnt faces, one could see they had come from a long distance.
躺在那儿，码头成了一个死的象征，就像一个黑边的胸针，炫耀着这座城市那突出的、絮絮叨叨的被太阳晒焦的咽喉。
Lying out there, the pier makes a momento mori, like a black-bordered brooch that flatters the city's plump, garrulous, sun-burned throat.
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