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Une Année à Paris, Le Finale, l’Hiver 

The winter of Paris feels long and dark. I was waiting for the sun, exiling the cold from hopeless. Paris is lovely but the winter seems so desperate. When the freezing air wrapped on me, the breath became exhausted. This poem is in memory of all the tough moments. Words abstracted from The Finale, a song of Jolin Tsai.

 

Finally the sun is up, for the evaporation of the tears from last night.

Finally I can breathe, for myself, from the depth of my heart.

I am breathing for myself, for the sentiment inside of me.

My heart is beating for myself, for the sensation inside of my body.

The happiness and sadness are alive for myself, for the perception of myself.

 

Tomorrow there will be a new chapter.

There will be someone loving me harder.

There will be no more fate of grievances.

Will not change those characters that’ve been changed for you.

Will not tolerate those moods that’ve been tolerated for long.

My heart, even though, painfully recalls the prologue.

 

From the beginning you were ready, for the apparent absence of the finale.

To help you is to help me complete the most beautiful wish:

That day your childish jumped from of your eyes. 

Secretly I made the wish to give all the bliss to you.

The prologue was so true so spectacular, that only sorrow left for the finale. 

 

Should not continue sighing .

Breathe deeply once again. 

Breathe for myself, for the sentimental inside of myself.

Heartbeat for myself, for the sensation inside of my body.

The happiness and sadness are alive for myself, for the perception of myself.

 

Tomorrow there will be a new chapter.

There will be someone loving me harder.

There will be no more the fate of grievances.

Will not change those characters that’ve been changed for you.

Will not bear those critics that’ve been born for long.

My heart even though, painfully thank you for the appearance.

 

Finally the sun is up, for the evaporation of the tears from last night.

Finally I can breathe for myself, in the last scene of the finale.


巴黎的一年,最终话,冬

2019年12月的你,就像一年前一样,阴阴沉沉, 风雨交加,让人压抑的喘不过气来。

终于太阳

还是升起

蒸发昨夜为你落的泪滴

记得上一个冬季,黄马甲在城里大肆喧闹,催泪弹与警笛穿插在人们的嘶吼声中,在酒里上班的我无法及时下班。那时的我并不惶恐,家里人的担心远大于自己对自己的忧虑。毕竟到来之前并未做美好的憧憬,只是多少有些惊讶。但隐隐约约自己告诉自己,我不喜欢这样的你,什么时候才能等到天晴的那一天?

一年后的冬天,黄马甲已经过去,但新的一轮罢工接踵而至,硝烟在共和广场上的那一幕是如此熟悉。此时的我依旧不惶恐,只是多了些疲惫。

我记得,这一年里,我曾有过这样的你,一个粉红愉悦的春,蓝白清凉的夏,杏色温暖的秋。但就像点燃的蜡烛一样,烛光在时间的消磨中一丝一丝耗尽,热情在时间的消逝中一点一点冷却。

不该继续叹息

再次深深呼吸

为自己而呼吸

为自己而心跳

为自己而快乐和伤心

也许生活太累了吧。的确,刚来巴黎的入学季,为了早点结束课程,我把整个学年的课时全部放到了第一学期,虽然住在郊区,但是上学也仍需要一个半小时,每天就在忙碌中奔跑过去,踩点上火车踩点进班级成了我的特技。没过多久,我就开始了在酒店的实习。记得家里人总提醒我,不要讲大话,要多做事。于是自己也不知道做了多少奇奇怪怪的手工活,既然是新手就不要抱怨,忍一忍总是有好处的, 也因此我学会了包装礼物这样实用的技巧。

也许太想家了吧。在这一年里,我也记不清有多少个夜晚是在自言自语中度过。虽然有手机在身旁,可是不是人人都能在手机的另一头等着我呀。虽然有樱花,碧海与下午茶,一个人的独享总缺少了什么,是缺少个人与我分享吗?也许吧。记得从小我不喜欢看国产电视剧,但这个冬天也不知道把一部宫廷剧看了多少遍以至于台词都会了,每当夜深人静,看完一集电视剧,我便吹灭蜡烛入眠。直到第三根蜡烛燃尽的时候,我猛然发现,什么时候自己竟然开始使用蜡烛了?

也许是真的压抑很久了吧。一开始本以为用睡觉便可减轻身体上的劳累,但是发现沉重感并未减弱。于是我再次思考,到是什么让自己打不起精神。去看了心理医生,才知道自己内心里累积了太多的杂质,脑海中沉淀了众多的忧愁,生活中自添了不必要的负担。于是我开始学习冥想,在神经紧张的时候,深呼吸,感受自己的身体,让他告诉我是否该休息。同时,我也尝试着丢掉一些莫名的标签,微笑不是给所有人的,善良也应量力而行。

终于自己

能为自己

呼吸一口

我不为你活的呼吸

终于,在2020年的春,虽然天气依旧寒冷,而阴霾渐渐散去。

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