1.你好，百花山

1.你好，百花山

琴声飘忽不定，
捧在手中的雪花微微震颤。
当阵阵迷雾退去，
显出旋律般起伏的山峦。

我收集过四季的遗产
山谷里，没有人烟。
采摘下的野花继续生长，
开放，那是死亡的时间。

沿着原始森林的小路，
绿色的阳光在缝隙里流窜。
一只红褐色的苍鹰，
用鸟语翻译这山中恐怖的谣传。

我猛地喊了一声：
“你好，百---花---山---“
“你好，孩---子---“
回音来自遥远的瀑涧

那是风中之风，
使万物应和，骚动不安。
我喃喃低语，
手中的雪花飘进深渊。

Hello, Hundred Flowers Mountain

There is erratic music in the air,
The snowflakes in my hands tremble slightly.
When the bursts of fog have receded,
Showing the rhythm of the rolling hills.

I have collected over the inheritance of the Four Seasons
In the valley, there is no signs of human habitation.
Picking wild flowers which will continue to growth,
To blossom and open, it is the time of death.

Along the jungle paths,
The green sunlight leaking in the gaps.
A reddish-brown goshawk,
Translating the terror rumors in the mountain by his voice.

I suddenly shouted:
"Hello, Hundred----- Flowers ---- Mountain--- "
"Hello, children --- children ---"
There is echo from the distant waterfalls and streams

It was the wind in the winds,
So that all things should respond and be unrest.
I muttered softly to myself,
Snowflakes in my hands floated into the abyss.