或许回忆常常遗忘坏心情的内容，

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：（Onceuponatime，greenwasjustacolor.

Thecloudsaresoclose，theskyissoblue，

(thesewereallrealthings)

Carsandhousesarenotascheapastheyarenow，

(nowitonlyexistsinthepaintingswepaintedwhenwewereyoung.)

Butweusedtoplaycarefree，

Painting，somersaulting，foldingtheworkintoanairplane.

Inthecountryside，therearerowsofgreentrees，

Theleavesgrowwell，

Flowersandplantsgrowfreely，manyofthemarenotnamed，

Theregrowcicadasinsummer;

Theriveroftenoverflows，andtherainyseasonisalwayswarm，

Myfriendsliketocatchfish，

Autumnisamaturedaywithyellowandredleaves

It''slikemissinginafairytale，coveringtheearthgently.

Therearetracesofbicyclesrunningovertheramp，

Therearefirefliesinautumn，andtherearecountlessstars.

DespitetheTVandradio，

Adultsprefertositoutsideandchat.

Yes，thisiswhatIamdescribingnow.ThereasonwhyIstillwanttorecallitisthatitisbeingabandonedbythetimes.

Thosesimplethingsthataregreen，fresh，livelyandcasual，anddonotneedliteratureandarttorepeat，aregraduallyreplacedbysomecomplicatedandboringthings，

Maybememoriesoftenforgetthecontentofbadmood，

Butouroriginalhappiness，indeed

Thetruthisbasedonthat

Itisaprimitivevillagefullofbirdsandflowers.

Ifitcanalsobecopiedandrestored，

I''mnotgoingtowritethistotrytosatirize.

Childrenwillnotlosethehappinessofimagination，

Withasharpbrush，tocarvethosewhohavenofeelings

Thereisnoso-calledartofcolor，

Carsshuttlethroughcrowdedcities，

Life，butabandontheoriginalfreedom.）