早起洗漱，听曲子。舒曼的童年即景、柴可夫 、四月巴黎、德彪西几首...渐渐生出了一些毛茸茸的轻快心情，谁知下一秒就来个卡斯特梅的雨季 and now the rains weep o’er his hall / and no one there to hear / yes now the rains weep oer’s hall / and not a soul to hear

：我好想再看一遍权游啊
：你不是买了一套原著吗，看书吧
：生词有点多，看着费劲
：你买的英文版？
：嗯
：那你这辈子都别想看完了
于是开始激情读书（先读中文还不行么[跪了]

那个偏远的小县城
早已不是记忆中的模样
不再的时光
还有深藏在心中
不忍触碰的挚爱之人的记忆
那是我回不去的故乡

　Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

　　I am in a thousand winds that blow,

　　I am the softly falling snow.

　　I am the gentle showers of rain,

　　I am the fields of ripening grain.

　　I am in the morning hush,

　　I am in the graceful rush.

　　Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

　　I am the starshine of the night.

　　I am in the flowers that bloom,

　　I am in a quiet room.

　　I am in the birds that sing,

　　I am in each lovely thing.

　　Do not stand at my grave and cry,

　　I am not there.

　　I do not die.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn grain.
——Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
Poet, Mary Elizabeth Frye

我化为千风轻轻吹拂。
我化身微光雪中闪耀。
我化做阳光泽被熟麦。
我成为秋天的谷粒，
轻轻地落地。
——别在我的坟墓前为我哭泣
诗人，玛莉·伊丽莎白·弗莱