我是个只管前行而不善回首的人。春花盛开时,我几乎不去回忆经过的那个严冬是如何对它的考验,而是幻想明天或许它的芳香会更浓郁;夏水开涨时,我几乎不去回忆头顶上的那个烈日是如何对它的暴蒸,而是幻想明天或许它的浩淼会更壮阔;秋实挂枝时,我几乎不去回忆刮过的那个飓风是如何对它的肆虐,而是幻想明天或许它的滋味会更香甜;冬日的阳光开始庸懒了,我几乎没有去回忆无情的冰雪是如何对它的残酷,而是幻想明天或许它的光芒会更温情。 I’m just a person who does not look back. When the spring flowers bloom, I scarcely recall how the harsh winters tested it. Instead, I imagined that tomorrow it might have a more aromas. When the water was rising, I would scarcely recall the hot sun above my head It’s the steal, but the fantasy Tomorrow perhaps its vastness will be more magnificent; autumn solidarity, I almost do not recall the hurricane shaved how it is raging, but the fantasy tomorrow may taste it More sweet; winter sun began lazy, I almost did not recall how the ruthless snow is cruel to it, but the fantasy tomorrow may be more warmth of its light.