等候他唱,我们静着望,怕惊了他。但他一展翅,冲破浓密,化一朵彩云;他飞了,不见了,没了——像是春光,火焰,像是热情。他去了,永远的去了。我们还是常痴望,痴望着云霄,想再看见他来,像一道春光的暖流,悄悄的来。不能说这全是痴,我们不知忘掉了多少事,唯独这春光火焰似的热情的朋友,怎样也难使我们放下这痴心:我们要的是春光,火焰,要的是热 Waiting for him to sing, we are still looking, afraid of him. But as soon as he spread his wings, he broke through thickness and turned a colorful cloud. He flew away, gone and gone - like spring, flame and passion. He went, gone forever. We are still often crazy, foolish looking at the sky, would like to see him again, like a warm spring, quietly come. We can not say that this is all an act of madness. We do not know how many things we have forgotten. It is hard for us to let go of this infatuation with this warm, flame-like and passionate friend: what we want is spring, flame and what we want is heat