还顺带翻来了这两个
In my young days, I had tasted only gladness,
But loved to mount the top floor,
But loved to mount the top floor,
To write a song pretending sadness.
And now I’ve tasted sorrow’s flavoures, bitter and sour,
And can’t find a word,
And can’t find a word,
But merely say, “What a golden autumn hour!”
(Lin Yutang 1930s)
While young, I knew no grief I could not bear;
I’d like to go upstairs.
I’d like to go upstairs
To write new verses with a false despair.
I know what grief is now that I am old;
I would not have it told.
I would not have it told,
But only say I’m glad that autumn’s cold.
(X. Y. Z. 1986)