|
zuò cí : chén wáng lǐ Chet |
|
zuò qǔ : chén wáng lǐ Chet |
|
zuò qǔ: chén lǐ Chet |
|
zuò cí: chén lǐ Chet, William Shakespare |
|
biān qǔ: chén lǐ Chet |
|
biān qǔ zhǐ dǎo: péng jiā chāng, guō zhào xiáng |
|
lù yīn: péng jiā chāng |
|
fēng miàn shè jì: yáng sēn mào |
|
Could the witches break up the curses? |
|
I can' t bear it any more. |
|
I drowned in a tub full of blood |
|
And my hands couldn' t be washed up |
|
Breathing, suffocating |
|
Screaming and roaring |
|
Stormy seas and wild wind drove me away |
|
Hit the cliffs and blow the walls |
|
Red moon and black raven killed my life |
|
Dye the night and swallow the light |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
May the forest stop your steps? |
|
I' d rather choose the death. |
|
Please help me cut off my bloody hands |
|
Coz they always pull me to the hell |
|
Breathing, suffocating |
|
Screaming, roaring |
|
Stormy seas and wild wind drove me away |
|
Hit the cliffs and blow the walls |
|
Red moon and black raven killed my life |
|
Dye the night and swallow the light |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
Far away, Far away |
|
" Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow |
|
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day |
|
To the last syllable of recorded time |
|
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools |
|
The way to dusty death. |
|
Out, out, brief candle! |
|
Life' s but a walking shadow, a poor player |
|
That struts and frets his hour upon stage |
|
And then is heard no more: it is a tale |
|
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, |
|
Signifying nothing." |
|
My time is coming. |