jīn yè wǒ néng xiě zuì bēi shāng de shī xíng。
xiě，
zhū rú，
“ jīn yè de tiān kōng shàng
lán sè de xīng xīng zài yuǎn chù zhànlì。
”
yè fēng zài kōng zhōng huí xuán，
gē chàng。
jīn yè wǒ néng xiě zuì bēi shāng de shī xíng。
wǒ '
ài tā，
yòu shí hòu tā yě '
ài wǒ。
duō shǎo xiàng zhè yàng de yè wǎn wǒ bǎ tā yōng zài huái lǐ。
zài wú biān wú jì de tiān kōng xià wǒ yī biàn yòu yī biàn wěn tā。
tā '
ài wǒ，
yòu shí hòu wǒ yě '
ài tā。
zěn me kě néng bù '
ài tā nà níng jìng de dà yǎn jīng。
jīn yè wǒ néng xiě zuì bēi shāng de shī xíng。
xiǎng dào wǒ méi yòu liǎo tā。
gǎn dào wǒ shī qù liǎo tā。
tīng dào guǎng kuò de yè，
yīn méi yòu liǎo tā '
ér xiǎn dé gèng guǎng gèng kuò。
ér shī jù diē rù líng hún yòu rú lù zhū dī luò cǎo dì。
wǒ de '
ài liú bù zhù tā yòu yòu shénme guān xì。
xīng xīng bù mǎn yè kōng '
ér tā méi tóng wǒ zài yī qǐ。
zhè jiù shì yī qiē。
yuǎn chù yòu rén zài chàng gē。
yuǎn chù。
wǒ de líng hún yīn shī qù tā '
ér bù mǎn。
wǒ de shì xiàn shì zhù zhǎo tā xiǎng bǎ tā lā jìn。
wǒ de xīn xún mì tā，
ér tā méi tóng wǒ zài yī qǐ。
tóng yàng de yè wǎn bǎ tóng yàng de shù rǎn bái。
wǒ men，
nà shí hòu，
yǐ bù zài xiāng tóng。
wǒ bù zài '
ài tā，
nà shì wú kě zhì yí de，
dàn wǒ céng duō me dì '
ài guò tā。
wǒ de shēng yīn shì zhù zhǎo yī zhèn fēng qù chù mō tā de tīng jué。
lìng yī gè rén de。
tā jiāng shì lìng yī gè rén de。
zhèng rú tā céng shì wǒ de wěn。
tā de shēng yīn，
tā míng lì de shēn tǐ。
tā wú yín de yǎn jīng。
wǒ bù zài '
ài tā，
nà shì wú kě zhì yí de，
dàn yě xǔ wǒ '
ài tā。
ài shì nà me duǎn zàn，
yí wàng què shì nà me yōu cháng。
yīn wéi zài xiàng zhè yàng de yè wǎn wǒ bǎ tā yōng zài huái lǐ
wǒ de líng hún yīn shī qù tā '
ér bù mǎn。
suī rán zhè shì tā ràng wǒ rěn shòu de zuì hòu tòng kǔ
ér zhè xiē shì wǒ wéi tā xiě xià de zuì hòu shī xíng。
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.