Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Remember
Man's dearest possession is life. It is given to him but once, and he must live it so as to feel no torturing regrets for wasted years, never know the burning shame of a mean and petty past; so live that, dying, he might say: all my life, all my strength were given to the finest cause in all the world - the fight for the Liberation of Mankind.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A trip to Lucern
19h35
She was sitting on a bench which was next to platform 1 and faced all the railway tracks and platforms, and people. There was a concrete block near the bench where she could comfortably rest her left arm on. She continued with her book, the train would arrive in 10 minutes. She could not concentrate. She had her book lying openly on her bended legs. She watched people, passengers or not, rushing their way or not. There's this moment she heard music, some kind of echoing music coming from nowhere. She tried to figure out where the music came from. It's a kind of instrument, penetrating into every air molecule. It sounded like..."station music", she named it, which reminded her of the mini orchestra performance on the TITANIC, when people were panicky. It's a music of come and go, of leaving and falling apart. It's only after about 20 seconds that she suddenly realised it's from the artist who always played in the underpass of the train station, with an instrument and a case of the instrument which was open by his feet with a few coins in it.
19h50
She's on train now, sitting facing the direction opposite to that of the train, comme d'habitude, so that she could have a better view of the lake, and France. The sunshine came from west sky was too bright that she had to close her eyes. When she opened her eyes again she saw the lake, and France, clean and clear, and warm. At that particular moment it seemed like there must be some kind of specially emotion rising up from the dazzling lake surface, she tried to find the right feeling, but a wor jumped into mind: life ----sounded so empty but felt so full.
The next day 15h30
She was sitting there somewhere by the lake of Lucern, reading her book. She put her feet in the water which was a bit too cold at the beginning but soon got better because her feet hot used to it. There came some American girls talking with a really SO American accent, they were discussing something they saw in the lake with "maybe", "maybe" but not "perhaps", which reminded her of a British man she met once in the train from Beijing to Chengdu who strongly suggested her talk with "perhaps", "probably" instead of "maybe", but she didn't make it, the change, she was just not used to say "perhaps", MAYBE because "maybe" was easier to say than "perhaps". "maybe" has only "may" and "be", while "perhaps" has "per", "ha" and "p" and "s", while, "probably" was apparently more tricky and tongue -twisting.
She was sitting on a bench which was next to platform 1 and faced all the railway tracks and platforms, and people. There was a concrete block near the bench where she could comfortably rest her left arm on. She continued with her book, the train would arrive in 10 minutes. She could not concentrate. She had her book lying openly on her bended legs. She watched people, passengers or not, rushing their way or not. There's this moment she heard music, some kind of echoing music coming from nowhere. She tried to figure out where the music came from. It's a kind of instrument, penetrating into every air molecule. It sounded like..."station music", she named it, which reminded her of the mini orchestra performance on the TITANIC, when people were panicky. It's a music of come and go, of leaving and falling apart. It's only after about 20 seconds that she suddenly realised it's from the artist who always played in the underpass of the train station, with an instrument and a case of the instrument which was open by his feet with a few coins in it.
19h50
She's on train now, sitting facing the direction opposite to that of the train, comme d'habitude, so that she could have a better view of the lake, and France. The sunshine came from west sky was too bright that she had to close her eyes. When she opened her eyes again she saw the lake, and France, clean and clear, and warm. At that particular moment it seemed like there must be some kind of specially emotion rising up from the dazzling lake surface, she tried to find the right feeling, but a wor jumped into mind: life ----sounded so empty but felt so full.
The next day 15h30
She was sitting there somewhere by the lake of Lucern, reading her book. She put her feet in the water which was a bit too cold at the beginning but soon got better because her feet hot used to it. There came some American girls talking with a really SO American accent, they were discussing something they saw in the lake with "maybe", "maybe" but not "perhaps", which reminded her of a British man she met once in the train from Beijing to Chengdu who strongly suggested her talk with "perhaps", "probably" instead of "maybe", but she didn't make it, the change, she was just not used to say "perhaps", MAYBE because "maybe" was easier to say than "perhaps". "maybe" has only "may" and "be", while "perhaps" has "per", "ha" and "p" and "s", while, "probably" was apparently more tricky and tongue -twisting.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Framboise
I'm wondering today who was the guy who translated the french word "framboise"(raspberry) to "覆盆子" in Chinese.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Paris
On marche, on mange, on couche ensemble. Mais je suis toujours solitaire.
A Paris, je marchais, mangais, couchais, seule. Mais je n'étais jamais solitaire.
C'est pourquoi je l'aimais, et toujours l'aime beaucoup, Paris.
A Paris, je marchais, mangais, couchais, seule. Mais je n'étais jamais solitaire.
C'est pourquoi je l'aimais, et toujours l'aime beaucoup, Paris.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Review of "Indochine"
Est-ce que tu peux te rappeler la humidité, lorsque l'eau du Mekong s'évaporait, les femmes lavant les cheveux sur le bord, les enfant courant, s'ébattant, tout le mond déchausées, avec les pieds touchant la terre, le sol tempérés, les plants doux..
Mets ton chapeau, ne laisse pas la chaleur brûler ton peaux. Chantes, chantes losrque tu longe la rivière, ta voix va s'épandre comme les rides dans la surface de l'eau.
Mets ton chapeau, ne laisse pas la chaleur brûler ton peaux. Chantes, chantes losrque tu longe la rivière, ta voix va s'épandre comme les rides dans la surface de l'eau.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
12. Fevrier
Got extremely upset this evening because I missed the moment to watch the twilight with its best colors, and I almost cried standing by the window seeing the magic colors fade away.
I don't like the ceiling light... it's just too bright...when it's dark. I don't need to scare the darkness away but with the small lamp on the table, when you turn around, you will find how nice it is to have this little precious orange light flow into the darkness of the room...
Do you wanna take a walk with me Amelie? When you dig your fingers into the grains I would enjoy my little nostalgia when standing outside the lousy Chinese restaurants at the corner of the street and staring at the neolights.
Why people walk so fast in this city, why there are watches and clocks everywhere and the trains are never late, why the streets are so empty in the night.
I don't like the ceiling light... it's just too bright...when it's dark. I don't need to scare the darkness away but with the small lamp on the table, when you turn around, you will find how nice it is to have this little precious orange light flow into the darkness of the room...
Do you wanna take a walk with me Amelie? When you dig your fingers into the grains I would enjoy my little nostalgia when standing outside the lousy Chinese restaurants at the corner of the street and staring at the neolights.
Why people walk so fast in this city, why there are watches and clocks everywhere and the trains are never late, why the streets are so empty in the night.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Change
I preferred Hilary. But I was still thrilled when Obama was addressing to the world, announcing his begin of power, his begin of change on America, on the world.
"All are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness." I remember.
"All are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness." I remember.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Broken sunny day
Dear Amelie,, are you waiting for me somewhere? Wait for me to travel in the summer, wake up in the morning where there is milky sunlight diffusing into the air, filling our pillow and the cracks on the wall.
What if you don't lie? What if they don't fight? What if we haven't lost it, I guess I could still smile.
What if you don't lie? What if they don't fight? What if we haven't lost it, I guess I could still smile.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
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