Ｌａｋｅ　ｏｆ　Ａｕｔｕｍｎ

黄飞飞

秋叶翻飞，飘落一地，雨水扼杀着所剩无几的夏日。本期我们为大家选编了一篇英国著名散文，作者记叙了一段失落的浪漫。请细细品味，并将译文发给我们。

优秀者名单将在杂志上刊登，并有机会获取奖品。

I remember quite clearly now when the story happened.

The autumn leaves were floating in measure down to the ground,

recovering the lake, where we used to like children,

under the sun was there to shine.

That time we used to be happy.

Well, I thought we were.

But the truth was that you had been longing to leave me,

not daring to tell me.

On that precious night,

watching the lake,

vaguely conscious,

you said, “our story is ending.”

The rain was killing the last days of summer.

You had been killing my last breath of love, since a long time ago.

I still dont think Im gonna make it through another love story.

You took it all away from me.

And there I stand,

I knew I was going to be the one left behind.

But still Im watching the lake,

vaguely conscious,

and I know my life is ending.