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THE ROSE |
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happy birthday to myself! |
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cí qǔ: Amanda McBroom |
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fān yì: 15 suì de huā chóu hé 20 suì de huā chóu |
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fān chàng: huā chóu |
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hòu qī: yīng tíng luò |
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pv: huā chóu |
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Some say love it is a river. That drowns the tender reed. jūn yuē ài rú xī, ruò lú shuǐ zhōng qī |
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Some say love it is a razor. That leaves your soul to bleed. jūn yuē ài shì tì, hún fēi sì sàn qì |
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Some say love it is a hunger, an endless aching need. jūn yuē ài ruò jī, kě wàng wú jué qī |
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I say love it is a flower, and you it' s only seed. yú què yǐ huā yù, wéi rǔ zhǒng yī lì |
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It' s the heart afraid of breaking. That never learns to dance. xīn kǒng zhuì dì, wèi cháng yuè qǐ |
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It' s the dream afraid of waking. That never takes the chance. mèng jù sàn xì, sòng jué shí jī |
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It' s the one who won' t be taken, who cannot seem to give. bù yuàn shī qù, wèi zēng jǐ yǔ |
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And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live. wèi sǐ zhī hún, liǎo wú shēng qì |
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When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long. gū yè wú yī, cháng lù wú jì |
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And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong. ài fēi wéi yī, zhòng shēng jiē xǔ |
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Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows, quàn jūn xì kàn, quàn jūn míng jì. dōng rì lǐn lǐn, dōng xuě qī qī |
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Lies the seed that with the sun' s love, in the spring becomes the rose. xià yǒu ài zhǒng, bàn yáng ér jū. chūn fēng lái shí, huā yè lí lí |