In the deep step-like chasm,
I looked above. Everything round stagnated,
nothing but raised silent. Speechless as past,
but full of something graceful rhetoric I can’t speak out. I pretended to being thinking.
Within those flied time, I escaped. Regardless surroundings,
for answering a shallow answer. There was a kind of
secreted metaphor of times’ earnest. Then a helpless voice was born,
in this chasm. Everything is all but gone.
I turn around, nothing but had been left me. ——翻译自@边缘泪滴