第1个回答 2013-06-24
My Dream In the stream bubbling along its course, My past is slumbering, Just like the pebblesSilently lying on the riverbed, And likewise my dreamHas never come to life. On the trail winding toward no end, My memory is marked, Just like the wild flowersQuietly blossoming and withering by the wayside, And likewise my dreamHas never attracted a butterfly. On the hillside with trees verdant and thick, My hope is planted, Just like the small pinesStanding evergreen throughout the four seasons, And likewise my dreamHas once shined like a crystal. On the light breeze blowing gently, My yearning is riding, Just like the strings of the windSoftly plucking a harmony, And likewise my dreamHas once played an episode of trills. On the prison bars as cold as ice, My teardrops are hanging, Just like the dew on the balustradeUttering no single word, And likewise my dreamHas once been roused with a start. Oh, during such a long timeOf twenty years and more, For the first time my dream Has broken my tender heart! Dream --- By Allan Houston Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, For when dreams go life is a barren field Forzen with snow.