你能吹起一朵自由的蒲公英让她飘过喷涌的火山口；

或用敞开的心怀接下瀑布永远的幸存与谦恭,她那坠落的激昂？

为理解生存的意义我们渴望同蜂群一起飞去，

那一刻便停息在花蕾深处，靠离奇的机灵领会更新的蜜语，

链接起你知道还不能明确表达的思绪。

或许我们在倒下的雷锋塔里能捡起古人已残破的叹息。

一如野炊的篝火燃起的总是明天的黎明，她从不想熄灭。

而我或许能找到那个不相知的路人，那瞳孔里奔跑的雨中人影，

一個強悍傳承的血統，是我真有过的遗忘，如今猛然想起。

在漆黑的午夜，看得见树根托起那些闪光的灵魂，

让他们又触摸到了如此异样的天空,沉默在颤抖。

骰子滾動了.

        The dice is cast:

Can you blow off a dandelion in a sea of air and see her drifting

 Over a mouth of volcano gushing ？

Or open your heart to get the waterfall’s survival and humility

Within ageless-jumping emotion?

Are we eager to fly with a swarm of bee perching on each center of flowers? With a crazy shrewdness talk to the wit-filled cried pollen

That will link up with some knowing thoughts clearly-unspoken.

Or can we pick up the broken-signs left from the ancient of ours

Attached in dust with the fallen-tower Lei-Fen?

As coaxing a bonfire to greet the tomorrow’s dawn that never off our sights

Oh would I find the strange passer-by, a running-shape

Reflecting in his pupils beneath the rainy-cloud

 That in one wild strain expressed is more lost to me   

Than anyone else in the world;

Nowadays I recall the vivid image picture:

At the midnight blues can see the roots of trees boost up those bright souls

Let them touch the solid sky silent-trembled.

The dice is cast.