窝居在巷陌的寻常幸福 这篇文章的汉译英译文

Hermit's life seems in the traditional sense of happiness has been considered the highest level. But this is also a lonely aloof recluse, it is a small number of pure hermit, but a few of those can not be used to meet the universal interpretation of happiness look like.

There is a saying little faint in the wild, hermit in the city. True happiness is not seclusion, to the market rather than the jungle to find.

Morning, through the antique carved lattice windows, a garden of exquisite bonsai slowly golden touch of makeup on. That fried egg "thorn friends" sound curl rising, the air began to sound full of innocent children, cars start rhythm, sweet farewell between husband and wife, as well as neighbors plain simple hello. In all lanes, busy but not chaotic, lively but not noisy, not plain boring.

Hong Mei's green mountains of the green while not dripping, but the air was filled with the wilderness does not have life. Yellow street lights, each with a different mood benches are written, sweet and joy, sadness and joy, mixed together, in quiet and slowly fermented. Who will know the next corner in what kind of surprise would be a unique constant snack bar patrons? Stood, a jazz bar? Or an arrayed tall wooden bench, and even the air is idle small coffee shop? Sitting on the wooden outdoor umbrellas propped on, and new acquaintances while drinking tea, while talking their little lives, and perhaps also a kind of pleasant.

Everything, polished by time, by that time and finally formed a habit, a tacit understanding, a culture.

And to house guest of neighbors and friends with one cleverly satirical tone with chores around, we have narrowed his eyes flashing with the same sly understanding; and family around the dinner table, title mouth full of food were also made ambiguous sound, some noisy, but no one bored.

Although the narrow alley, but the speed of the spread of Latin not live happy ... ...

With the city's high-rise buildings are dense and cold where they stand, the congestion of traffic, in the polluted air, people's happiness is a little bit of fragmentation, homeless. We live more and more spacious, more private. Self, is also planning into a single space, careful not to touch the hearts of others, nor allow others to easily intervene. However, a person will feel quiet, weary of those who have been very noisy warmth is missed in retrospect.

Compared to high-rise towers of Manhattan, people prefer the red dome of Florence under the sun flooded the old roadway; night brighter than in Lujiazui, people will prefer slapstick full of children laughing in the Wanhangdu. However, even if it Cang grow old, support from the dream world of old houses should be quiet and dark gray, Wu cries of soft dialect, which side had the warmth and memories of the mixing of a small alley.

If a pair of fine eyes go to the contemplation, in fact, occupy a corner of moss and ivy, are dark green of the Psalms, not elegant, not bold, just kind of plain happiness, simple.

Happiness is what he looks like, perhaps it is not difficult to answer. Happiness is a spread of the Psalms, on the city's skies, those extraordinary poems lanes.

Night had fallen over, then scatter to the myriad of twinkling lights, how many ordinary happiness is dwelling in the lanes ... ...

Hermit life seems in traditional consciousness has been regarded as the highest happiness. But it is also the lonely god-realized aloof, pure the hermit's minority, while a reading of cannot be used to satisfy the happiness."

The tao is small in wild, faint faintly in city. True happiness in the streets, can not solitude instead of the jungle.

The dawn, and through the lattice of carve patterns or designs on woodwork, antique courtyard exquisite potted slowly in the golden a weak. The Fried egg "CiLa" sound distanced, in the air filled with young began TongYin, auto start rhythm, and sweet, and the neighbors simplicity. In all this, HangBai busy but not chaos, lively, but not noisy, but not boring.

The green mountains, although no lanes of the lakeside and intoxicates tens but filled the air in the wilderness that no vitality. Under the lamp light yellow, every piece of couch written all different mood, sweet and happiness, sadness and joy, intertwined in silence slowly fermentation. No one knows what the next corner is what kind of surprise, is a unique style of eating snack continuously? Put the jazz is a bar? Or a place with tall, make gyrations of small cafe and air are idle? Sitting in the chair to outdoor umbrella, and new friends, talk over a cup of tea with his little life, perhaps is a kind of relaxed.

All the time, and time is burnish, precipitation, finally formed a habit, a tacit understanding, a kind of culture.

And come home with the same kind of friend neighbor accents ably banter trivial, everyone around eyes narrowed to a tacit understanding with cunning, Together with my family around the table full of food and mouth still carrying a vague, some noisy, but not boring.

Although narrow alleys, but not happy, the spread of speed...

With the intensive and cold in the city of high-rise buildings, the traffic congestion in the air pollution in the people's happiness, is broken, little by little. Everybody lives more capacious, more and more private. Self, also was in a single room, careful not to touch the hearts of others, also not allow others easily intervention. However, a person will feel quiet, have tired of those noisy in retrospect very tender miss.

Rather than standing tall on the Manhattan, people prefer Florence red dome is flooded old roadway sunshine, On the night of the bright light than lujiazui, people will prefer full of children mocked million crossing bliss. If has CangRan, supporting the old dream of dark house should be calm, WuNong soft language, the party's crying over warm memories and dense small quiet.

If you use a pair of eyes to witness, and every one in the corner of the lichen and ivy occupy, are green, elegant, poems, just that reflect the bland, simple happiness.

What is happiness, perhaps is not difficult to answer. Happiness is a poem about the spread of city, in the sky, the HangBai unusual.

That night, the lights of scattered, how many unusual happiness is humble abode in HangBai...

Hermit life seems in traditional consciousness has been regarded as the highest happiness. But it is also the lonely god-realized aloof, pure the hermit's minority, while a reading of cannot be used to satisfy the happiness."

The tao is small in wild, faint faintly in city. True happiness in the streets, can not solitude instead of the jungle.

The dawn, and through the lattice of carve patterns or designs on woodwork, antique courtyard exquisite potted slowly in the golden a weak. The Fried egg "CiLa" sound distanced, in the air filled with young began TongYin, auto start rhythm, and sweet, and the neighbors simplicity. In all this, HangBai busy but not chaos, lively, but not noisy, but not boring.

The green mountains, although no lanes of the lakeside and intoxicates tens but filled the air in the wilderness that no vitality. Under the lamp light yellow, every piece of couch written all different mood, sweet and happiness, sadness and joy, intertwined in silence slowly fermentation. No one knows what the next corner is what kind of surprise, is a unique style of eating snack continuously? Put the jazz is a bar? Or a place with tall, make gyrations of small cafe and air are idle? Sitting in the chair to outdoor umbrella, and new friends, talk over a cup of tea with his little life, perhaps is a kind of relaxed.

All the time, and time is burnish, precipitation, finally formed a habit, a tacit understanding, a kind of culture.

And come home with the same kind of friend neighbor accents ably banter trivial, everyone around eyes narrowed to a tacit understanding with cunning, Together with my family around the table full of food and mouth still carrying a vague, some noisy, but not boring.

Although narrow alleys, but not happy, the spread of speed...

With the intensive and cold in the city of high-rise buildings, the traffic congestion in the air pollution in the people's happiness, is broken, little by little. Everybody lives more capacious, more and more private. Self, also was in a single room, careful not to touch the hearts of others, also not allow others easily intervention. However, a person will feel quiet, have tired of those noisy in retrospect very tender miss.

Rather than standing tall on the Manhattan, people prefer Florence red dome is flooded old roadway sunshine, On the night of the bright light than lujiazui, people will prefer full of children mocked million crossing bliss. If has CangRan, supporting the old dream of dark house should be calm, WuNong soft language, the party's crying over warm memories and dense small quiet.

If you use a pair of eyes to witness, and every one in the corner of the lichen and ivy occupy, are green, elegant, poems, just that reflect the bland, simple happiness.

What is happiness, perhaps is not difficult to answer. Happiness is a poem about the spread of city, in the sky, the HangBai unusual.

That night, the lights of scattered, how many unusual happiness is humble abode in HangBai...
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