英语翻译若干年后,当他在一个暮雨潇潇的黄昏回想起二十岁那年的河南之旅,是否还会如当初那样涕泪滂沱,痛彻心扉?他或许无法忘

英语翻译
若干年后,当他在一个暮雨潇潇的黄昏回想起二十岁那年的河南之旅,是否还会如当初那样涕泪滂沱,痛彻心扉?他或许无法忘记在异乡的小旅馆独对空镜,轻抚泪痕的场景,他逼视着镜子中那个面容憔悴,满鬓斑白的无名老人,渐渐撕下被时光之水倒流之后涉足的印记所刻下的证明其曾经年轻过的标识,在岁月面前,任何时段的人来人往都如白驹过隙转瞬即逝,唯独川流不息的人海中最为鲜明落寞的孤寂面庞,由接近风的深情目光渐渐过滤凸显,成为亘古永存的伤心特写.他还记得在商丘举目无亲的闹市街头,留下一个个落拓仓促的背影；这座建在茫茫华北平原上的小城,城市布局四四方方,然而市容市貌却肮脏不堪,遍地垃圾.当原先所有蓄积已久的期待被现实的惨淡逐个击破,他开始了一段心灵接受历练的单程约会.在芒山景区,管理员大妈的一个特殊优惠,游客免费让他搭乘的一次顺风车都使他感动不已.在开封游览铁塔公园的那个暮雨绵绵的傍晚,当游客尽皆散去,唯独他愣愣地对着被微风轻轻托起的空荡荡的秋千,形影相离,失魂落魄,想聚集满园草坪上沁出的雨珠,来覆盖彻头彻尾的伤痛；这些年来,他已习惯了一个人走路,一个人吃饭,乃至一个人旅行,却无法适应去承受一个人的孤寂,一个人的悲苦,当他再次注视那些看过无数次的相片,竟出奇地发现他仿佛回到了大半年前初次收到她相片时的观感,她确实并不好看,可是他为什么还会不顾一切,视死如归地踏上去河南的列车?难道真是压抑多年的情感需要一个冲破罗网的宣泄?以爱的名义,以青春的追求,还是以年轻的冲动作为原谅自己的借口?时至今日,他已无需一个确切的答案,青春绽放的火花只绚烂一季,无论衬照的那一片天空之晴雨,无论那一抹娇霞之妍媸!
他依旧会在春天莺声呖呖的清晨置身于万木齐鸣的小树林,随意踱步,泠然不语,在夏天烈日高照的午后盘坐在荫蔽绵延的树下,轻啜香茗,茫然自语,在秋天乱叶纷飞的傍晚小立举目萧索的空庭,唏嘘冷凝,凄然哽咽,在冬天遍地荒寒的小木屋中抚今追昔,悄然落泪,四季的变迁也在不断变幻不同色调的奏鸣曲,他能做的,只是在一片空旷浩大的寂然中守望宁静.即使春季氤氲的水汽将他完全湮没在一片凄迷的雾海,夏季粲然的骄阳将他完全包裹在一片滚烫的火海,秋季绚烂的晚霞将他覆盖在一片恢宏的金海,冬季漫天的雪花将他消宁在一片壮丽的银海,他依然能透过不为外力阻碍的心的起搏穿过模糊的时光,在心灵的跳动中感受历史的温度和岁月的纯度.
她走了,带走了他心中最后一片叶子；他走了,拾起了一整个秋天的落叶.
热泪回流,冷雨如注,血管中的潜流暗涌再也不可阻遏地冲破堤坝,不知何处箫声渐起,断肠声里,乱红千片,雨后黄昏,他的心情已无处可置.
他似乎又回到了十八岁那年的生日,当时他已休学在家数月,四月末的空气中竟裹挟寒风阵阵,他独坐在孤寂的小房间,静候午夜的来临,因为那天的每一分每一秒对他而言,都是痛苦的煎熬和漫长的期待,尽管当晚父母回家时给他带来了丰盛的饭菜,可是在零点钟声敲响的那一刻,他还是在纸张上留下一句蹩脚的诗行--------
零点的钟声终于敲响
世界再也不存在喧嚣与纷攘
细细品味独属于我的这一刻
泪落千行 点亮了胸前五彩的生日蛋糕

呵,稍微有点长.
Will he still cry buckets of remorseful tears, after many and many years, perhaps on a raining evening, when he recalls the journey to Henan he's made at the age of twenty? He can hardly forget sitting there alone in a tiny hotel. He looked into the blank mirror before him and wiped softly the tears in his eyes. Then he saw himself in the mirrow: a nameless, hoary-heaed man with a sallow face. No one can ever defy time: if time runs backwards into the years, we'd still see the signs of youth were once so vivided written on his face. But now, what's happened in the passage of time only leaves us a fleeting glance. Years and years eclipsed upon generations after generations, and then, one brilliant face is brought forward to our eyes by the howling winds of eternity, and became an emblem for the sorrows of time.
He still remembers the days spent on the streets of Shangqiu City where no one knew him nor did any one care about him. He walked listlessly on days and nights.
The tiny city is situated on North China Plain. It's suqare-shaped but poorly maintained, garbages were seen in every corner.
When he realized that what had met his eyes were poles apart from what he had dreamed of, he embarked on a spiritual journey to get his soul hardened.
In the Mangshan Scenic Park, he met a maintenance granny who offered a special offer: taking a free ride together with her on her way home. His emotions were easily touched by the favor.
He visited the Iron Pagoda Park of Kaifeng City on a raining evening. At the moment all the visitors had left, leaving him alone to stare at the vacant swing. The swing drfited slightly in the gentle evening wind, just like him drifting in the whirls of life. Pains crept on his mind, he felt like gathering all the grass dews under his feet to shower on his burning mental sores.
With the passage of years of time, he had been well acquainted with loneliness: walking alone, dining alone, and even travelling alone. However, he still couldn't suffer the loneliness and pains.
When he once again looked at the girl's photo that he had examined for numerous times, he was reminiscent of what he felt half a year ago when he first received this photo: the girl was not good-looking. But why, then, he defied all difficulties to get on the train heading for Henan? Simply because he needed an outlet to release the feelings that he had supressed for years? What's the reason: in the name of love, in the pursuit of youth, or in the excuse of being yong? Now it does not necessary for him to get a definite answer. Youth is only sparkling when one is young. No matter shine or rain, no matter whether there will eventually be a rainbow for him, at least he once tried fearlessly to sparkle!
He would still walk with ease at spring time in the forest to enjoy morning bird songs. He would still sit in summer at noon-time under luxuriant trees with a tea at hand. He would still stand alone in his courtyard where autumn leaves flutter to fall. He would still recall and weep on the past in his cold cottage at winter time.
Time plays different pieces of music in different reasons. What he does is to stay silent against the vast expanse of solitude. The mist of spring can not drown him, the boiling hot of summer can not deter him, the golden dusky sun rays can not distract him, and the boundless snow fall in winter can not dazzle him. All the seasons are the pulsations of time which he can grasp and feel, and comprehend the mellowness contained within.
She's left, left with the last leaf on his mind.
He is also leaving, but he'll take all the autumn leaves with him.
Boiling tears sizzle against cold rain drops. The fury in his blood can not longer stay harnessed. In the heart-broken cries and rain-striken dusks, he is forever lost in sad memories.
He feels as if he's returned back to his 18th birthday. By then he had suspended his studies for several months. The air of late April still made him shiver from time to time. He was sitting alone in his tiny room, waiting for the footnotes of mid-night. Each single minute tortured him with endless waiting. Although his parents prepared him a delcious feast on that day, but at midnight he still left an awkward lyric secretly on a piece of paper:
The bell strikes midnight
Sound and fury no longer exist
I carefully taste this moment of mine
My tears fall in a thousand drops,
alighting the multi-colored birthday cake before my eyes