回忆的

When besides play or play, angle together with the child that is the same as a village frog, throw card (we that dialect makes foreign brand, I do not know mandarin is so say), dozen play bead (vitreous ball, a few hole are dug on the ground, hit back and forth in that), those who issue a river to catch a fish to wait to still a lot of is worth memory amusedly when game.

儿时除了玩还是玩，和同村的小孩一起钓田鸡，甩纸牌（我们那方言叫洋牌，我不知道普通话是不是这么说），打弹珠（玻璃球，在地上挖几个坑，在那往返打），下河抓鱼等还有很多好玩的值得回忆的儿时游戏。

When besides play or play, angle together with the child that is the same as a village frog, throw card (we that dialect makes foreign brand, I do not know mandarin is so say), dozen play bead (vitreous ball, a few small hole are dug on the ground, hit) back and forth in that, issue a river to catch a fish to wait to still a lot of is worth memory amusedly when game.

儿时除了玩还是玩，和同村的小孩一起钓田鸡，甩纸牌(我们那方言叫洋牌，我不知道普通话是不是这么说)，打弹珠(玻璃球，在地上挖几个小坑，在那往返打)，下河抓鱼等还有很多好玩的值得回忆的儿时游戏。

General Clark recalled like this:"I was the first victory in the absence of an armistice agreement was signed by General of the United States."

克拉克将军是这样回忆的："我是第一位在没有取得胜利的停战协议上签字的美国将军。"

You go quietly in the sun, the lazy ray of sunshine to see beyond the boundaries of memory, but you want to chase past a flowering of heard, lunch dream, wake up the sunshine.

你静静地走在阳光里，懒洋洋地看着一缕阳光超越回忆的界线，你想要追赶过去却听见一阵花开的炸响，午休的梦，阳光里醒了。

Memories of the debris picked up in the years to make a river thoughts will spray a ?weaving into a Campanula, it sound, as if the road is still in the distance, I warned.

捡起回忆的碎片，在岁月的河中打个水漂，思绪将一个个浪花串起，编织成一个风铃，那叮铛的声响，仿佛在告戒我路还在远方。

I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.

我像夜里的路，在寂静中倾听回忆的脚步声。

I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.

我仿佛是这夜色中默默谛听着回忆的足音的道路。

I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.

我就像那夜间的小径，正侧耳倾听着回忆的足音。

The footfalls of its memories in silence.

我像夜里的路，在寂静中倾听回忆的脚步声

I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.

我就像那夜间的小径。正侧身倾听著回忆的足音。

As she looked at Warrington's manly face, and dark, melancholy eyes, she had settled in her mind that he must have been the victim of an unhappy attachment.

每逢看到沃林顿那刚毅的脸，那乌黑、忧郁的眼睛，她便会相信，他一定作过不幸的爱情的受害者。

Maybe they'll disappear into a pothole.

也许他们将在壶穴里消失