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　　在我有聲有色的風(fēng)景里，你是還未被別人發(fā)現(xiàn)的瀑布，清高潔白。就是因?yàn)槟菢忧甯卟诺眠@么慘，白白把自己交給山谷，咕嚕咕嚕積成青潭，嬉玩自己激起的泡沫，潭受不了，推開你，你沿路淙淙流蕩，最后只好把自己交給海，變成浪。

　　In my vivid and dramatic landscape, you are the aloof and pure white waterfall yet unknown to others. It is just because of your aloofness that you fall so miserably, vainly trusting yourself to the valley. You tumble and rumble, then form a clear pond. You play with the foam you make. When the pond can no longer bear you, it pushes you aside; and then you gurgle all the way to the sea where you ripple away.

　　一大早，從暗處傾瀉下來的陽光就纏著你不放，還制造影子，讓你跳入，你怎樣奮力都摔不開。陽光甚至嫌四周不夠輝煌，還著色，更不合你透明的性格了。本以為入夜就可免除這些干擾，偏偏月有時(shí)幽柔，下來照亮你的山歌。

　　Early in the morning sunlight, streaming down through a dark place, ties you up and makes shadows for you to jump in. No matter how hard you try, you can not free yourself from it. The sunlight even thinks your surroundings are still not splendid enough; thus, it tints you with colours. This is still unsuitable for your character. You mean to avoid this trouble at night, but sometimes as the moon beams do reach you with dim and soft streams of light, that makes your folk song brightened.

　　你的山歌總是奔放，然而即使在晚上都唱不出什么名堂。雖激昂如進(jìn)行曲，也不過使附近無法行軍的樹，邊聽邊搖邊嘆而已。既然活在你宏亮的聲音里，那些樹只好日夜嘆息。

　　Your folk song is always overflowing with enthusiasm, but even at night you can’t get anywhere with it. Although your folk song is exciting and full of the indignation of a marching song, it just makes the trees around you sigh while they swing back and forth. Since living in such a boisterous sounding environment, the trees continue to sigh day in day out.

　　鳥曾來過。不能啄你的清高，也不能棲息在你的清白上，怎樣重奏合唱都比不過你，你又吵得潭里無魚。鳥不愿在長年安定的樹上造巢，飛走了。

　　The birds have been here, but they can not peck at your aloofness or rest upon your foam of purity and no matter how they sing in chorus, they can not match you. Besides, your clatter makes the pond fishless. Birds don’t like to build their nests in trees that rustle all the year round, so they fly away.

　　風(fēng)總是來。不能在總是沖動的你上面雕刻什么，又抱不走你，它一用力，你就和它掙扎不清。它若發(fā)怒挾雨而來，你淋久后也激動，竟不管下面已泛濫，還往下沖，你覺得很不英雄。

　　The wind is always here. It can’t carve anything on you, for you are always excited and it can’t take you away, either. As soon as it exerts itself, you would fight with it and become tangled together. If wind comes here angrily and brings rain, after being showered for a long time, you become excited as well. Thus, you fall down regardless of the flood you make below, for you feel yourself not heroic enough.

　　因?yàn)槭撬?，跌不死，所以才總是那么壯烈。其?shí)你并沒有自己。也不知是誰，水總在推，只好向前，不能再向前時(shí)，只好嚷著向下跳?？偸窍蛳绿?，無時(shí)間思考，你覺得沒什么可贊美的。

　　As you are water, you can’t fall to your death; thus, you are always heroic. Actually, you don’t have yourself. It is just because you are constantly pushed ahead by hind water, so you have to forever march forward. And when you can’t march any further, you jump down with cries and shouts. You are always dancing, you have no time to think and you feel you have nothing to praise.

　　不能贊美的也只是憤怒卻不知在咆哮什么，整天就落進(jìn)自己的吶喊，自聽自賞自鼓掌。雖然你的激情感動不了山的淡漠，你仍堅(jiān)持力的表現(xiàn)，然而沒被發(fā)現(xiàn)就不能發(fā)電，你覺得寂寞。

　　What can’t be praised is just anger without knowing what you are hollering for! You fall into your own cries and shouts. You hear your own claps. Although your excitement can’t move the indifference of the mountains, you still persist in displaying your power. However, you feel lonely; for you haven’t yet been discovered for the power you are so eager to generate.

　　在你無言的素描里，你拒絕是與世隔絕的瀑布。你寧可是無橋的溪中一塊石，硬不怕洶涌，不大，但從水面凸出給腳踏過。不稀罕什么雄偉，什么壯麗，也不計(jì)較是否被發(fā)現(xiàn)了。

　　In your wordless description, what you refuse to accept is being a waterfall in seclusion. You would prefer to be a stone in the brook without a bridge. It’s hard and not afraid of the furious currents. It’s small but protrudes from the water and becomes a stepping stone. It does not value nobility or magnificence, nor does it care whether it’s ever discovered or not.