但我们原本的快乐，的确
真实建立在那一片
鸟语花香的原始村落。
如果它还可以复制、还原，
我便不会写这些来试图讽刺什么。
孩子们也不会丧失了想象的快乐，
用尖尖画笔，去雕刻那些没有感情
也没有色彩的所谓艺术，
车子密密麻麻穿梭在拥挤的城市，
生活，却丢弃原本的自由。
英译版：（Once upon a time， green was just a color.
The clouds are so close， the sky is so blue，
(these were all real things)
Cars and houses are not as cheap as they are now，
(now it only exists in the paintings we painted when we were young.)
But we used to play carefree，
Painting， somersaulting， folding the work into an airplane.
In the countryside， there are rows of green trees，
The leaves grow well，
Flowers and plants grow freely， many of them are not named，
There grow cicadas in summer;
The river often overflows， and the rainy season is always warm，
My friends like to catch fish，
Autumn is a mature day with yellow and red leaves
It's like missing in a fairy tale， covering the earth gently.
There are traces of bicycles running over the ramp，
There are fireflies in autumn， and there are countless stars.
Despite the TV and radio，
Adults prefer to sit outside and chat.
Yes， this is what I am describing now. The reason why I still want to recall it is that it is being abandoned by the times.
Those simple things that are green， fresh， lively and casual， and do not need literature and art to repeat， are gradually replaced by some complicated and boring things，
Maybe memories often forget the content of bad mood，
But our original happiness， indeed
The truth is based on that
It is a primitive village full of birds and flowers.
If it can also be copied and restored，
I'm not going to write this to try to satirize.
Children will not lose the happiness of imagination，
With a sharp brush， to carve those who have no feelings
There is no so-called art of color，
Cars shuttle through crowded cities，
Life， but abandon the original freedom.）
