たすがれ
あのひあのときあのばしよで
きみにあえなかつたら
ぼくうらはいつまでも
みしらぬふたにのまま
だれかがあまくさそうことばに
もうこころゆれたいしないで

せつないけどそんなふうに
こころはしばれない
あしたになればきみをきつと
いまよりもつとすきになる
そのすべてがぼくのなかでときを
こえてゆく
きみのかぜにつばさになる
きみをまもりつつける
やわらかくきみをつつむ
あのかぜになる
いまきみのこころがおいた
ことばおめでかたおよせて
ぼくはわすれないこのひを
きみをだれにもわたさない
だれかがあまくさそうこと
ばにこころゆれたりしないで
きみをつつむあのかぜになる

我不知从何开囗
时间却不停地流逝
虽只是老生常谈
却教我欲言又止
只是因为你太完美
令我无法坦白说爱你
雨大概要停了
伫立在黄昏中的你和我
在那天 在那时 在那地方
如果不曾与你邂逅
我们永远也不会相识
 
不论是谁的甜言蜜语
都不可以三心两意
虽然我已经难过得无法呼吸
却不能这样就束缚住你的心
一天比一天更喜欢你
比现在更爱你
我所有的一切越过时空的阻隔
来到你身边
我要变成你的天使
紧紧地守护你
我要变成微风
温柔地拥抱着你
在那天 在那时 在那地方
如果不曾与你邂逅
我们永远也不会相识
现在你已动了心
却紧闭着双唇
让我紧靠着你的肩膀
我无法忘记此刻
我绝不把你让给任何人
我要变成你的天使
紧紧地守护你
我要变成微风
温柔地拥抱着你
在那天 在那时 在那地方
如果不曾与你邂逅
我们永远也不会相识
别再为他人的甜言蜜语而动心
我要变成围绕你的风
在那天 在那时 在那地方
如果不曾与你邂逅
我们永远也不会相识

夏天，没错，时晴时雨，心情好的时候蓝天艳阳，不好的时候电闪雷鸣……

半夜的雷雨，想起来就汗毛直竖；和莽撞的夏虫一起，并排上榜作为本人最怕的东西。
这个夏季，一直相安无事来着，偏偏最近成都的天像提前进入更年期，热得要命，打雷也很会挑时候，半夜……我是一个睡觉很轻的人，从很小的时候就是这个样子，风吹草动我都会醒，更何况是雷声；于是，我又在他演到发展部分的时候醒来，然后陪着他步向高潮，然后慢慢销声，小小的间歇之后，回旋，再次到高潮……我的心情也是这样忽起忽落，再玩一会就分裂了……

有一晚，记得很清楚，我在最不应该想起某些故事的时候想起了那些东西，更可恨的是，这些故事是我们高级视听说课的老师讲的（汗！）躲在被子里，看着手机，恩，4点。该给谁发短信？不知道，爸爸，不可以；他们，谁呢？甚至想起了大四的学长，后来觉得他应该很忙，只好作罢……MP3里的曲子翻过来调过去听，就是没有办法盖过雷声，没办法让我忘记那些乱七八糟的东西。突然，我觉得室友有动静，从被子里露出脑袋，太好了，旋开床上的台灯一点点，心里踏实了很多，泪水也忍不住了，知道自己没出息，就一次，让我先哭个够吧，未长大的女孩……

     最爱风信子，爱它带来地中海的和煦阳光和轻柔海风，爱它在朝气蓬勃的笑脸背后那一丝丝的悲伤，义无反顾的爱它，即使它不如玫瑰、郁金香般华贵、亦不比卡萨布兰卡、百合脱俗。记得，房间的窗台上一直摆着这么一盆风信子，不需要额外的阳光，也不要求特殊的呵护，却携来爱琴海上干爽的风，拭干被泪水、汗水浸湿的心;当我捧着一杯我爱的摩卡倚在床头凝望，总会一次又一次陷入自己编织的美梦中，仿佛坐在帕特农神殿的台阶上，远眺海上几只白帆，夹杂橘子香气的海风拂过，发随之扬起，耳边似有里拉琴的丝丝乐音，隐约看到潘神舞蹈，没有葡萄酒，却也让人醉，情不自禁，轻轻叹息……风信子就是有这种魔力——
 

Once when the golden-beamed Apollo roamed the earth, he made a companion of Hyacinthus, the son of King Amyclas of Lacedaemon - and him he loved with an exceeding great love, for the lad was beautiful beyond compare.

       The sun-god threw aside his lyre, and became the daily comrade of Hyacinthus. Often they played games, or climbed the rugged mountain ridges. Together they followed the chase or fished in the quiet and shadowy pools - and the sun-god, unmindful of his dignity, carried the lad's nets and held his dogs.

       It happened on a day that the two friends stripped off their garments, rubbed the juice of the olive upon their bodies, and engaged in throwing the quoit. First Apollo poised it and tossed it far. It cleaved the air with its weight and fell heavily to earth. At that moment Hyacinthus ran forwards and hastened to take up the disc, but the hard earth sent it rebounding straight into his face, so that he fell wounded to the ground.

       Ah! then, pale and fearful, the sun-god hastened to the side of his fallen friend. He bore up the lad's sinking limbs and strove to stanch his wound with healing herbs. All in vain! Alas! the wound would not close. And as violets and lilies, when their stems are crushed, hang their languid blossoms on their stalks and wither away, so did Hyacinthus droop his beautiful head and die.

       Then the sun-god, full of grief, cried aloud in his anguish, "O Beloved! thou fallest in thy early youth, and I alone am the cause of thy destruction! Oh, that I could give my life for thee or with thee! but since Fate will not permit this, thou shalt ever be with me, and thy praise shall dwell on my lips. My lyre struck with my hand, my songs, too, shall celebrate thee! And thou, dear lad, shalt become a new flower, and on thy leaves will I write my lamentations."

        And even as the sun-god spoke, behold! the blood that had flowed from Hyacinthus's wound stained the grass, and a flower, like a lily in shape, sprang up, more bright than Tyrian purple. On its leaves did Apollo inscribe the mournful characters: "ai, ai," which mean "alas! alas!"

        And as oft as the spring drives away the winter, so oft does Hyacinthus blossom in the fresh, green grass.

Turandot (1920 - 1924)

Background: Although during a trip to London in 1919 Puccini saw many plays, several of which may have suggested an opera with a Chinese theme, Puccini apparently had the idea to turn Carlo Gozzi's tragi-comedy, Turandotte, written around 1763, into an opera during a lunch meeting he was having in Milan with two librettists with whom he was working on another project. One of them, Renato Simoni, had previously written a play about Gozzi, and he suggested that Puccini look over Gozzi's works. Puccini already knew of Turandotte , and was taken with the idea of proceeding with Simoni and Giuseppe Adami, his librettist on La Rondine and Il Tabarro, on a very grand and important opera. In July of 1920, he invited Adami and Simoni to Bagni di Lucca, where he was spending part of the summer, to listen to some Chinese tunes played on a music box owned by a friend who was a collector of Chinese art and had brought it back from the Far East . After this meeting in Bagni, the librettists began to create a text from the scenario Puccini had asked them to write several months before. Even then, Puccini was unsure if he would proceed with this opera, as he was troubled by his usual doubts and fears. By early 1921, he was feeling more than a little intimidated by the subject, as it seemed so grand and difficult, but the three forged ahead, Puccini having decided to put aside his other projects in favor of Turandot. It was during 1921 that he became so aggravated by the addition of a noisy peat factory near him at Torre del Lago, that he reluctantly moved to Viareggio , having built a new house there. Although he never completely abandoned his beloved lake and often went to visit his friends there, he would never again be able to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of his home at the water's edge. By 1923, it was clear that the composer was quite ill, plagued not only with diabetes but also with a throat ailment that would be eventually diagnosed as cancer. As usual, he bombarded his librettists with requests and demands for changes and revisions in the text, often not hearing from them for weeks as they were both successful writers themselves with other projects in hand at the same time. Normally, Puccini didn't compose without the text, but sometimes with Turandot he would compose the music and ask to have the verse written to fit his composition. He felt under much pressure to complete the work, as if he had a sense of his own impending life's end. By 1924, Puccini couldn't wait to be "free" of Turandot, feeling unhappy about the progress of the work, which as usual, was slow. By the spring, he was waiting only for the final love duet from his librettists, and he felt that he had done good work with the rest of the opera. By this time, his throat problems had become a torment: persistently painful, he'd endured several inaccurate diagnoses and his overall state of health was failing. Coughing constantly, his friends were alarmed at how old and ill he looked. His cancer was finally diagnosed in October of 1924, by a specialist in Florence who advised Puccini to go to Brussels for a radium treatment. During this period Puccini had been working hard with his librettists and with Toscannini, whom he wanted to conduct the premiere, to complete the third act. He was still unhappy with the ending, and when he made the trip to Brussels , he took with him his musical notes for the Turandot finale with him, believing he would be able to work at the clinic. Puccini remained optimistic throughout his sometimes painful treatment, however, after undergoing surgery on November 24, the Maestro's health took a downward turn. He died on the morning of November 29, 1924, of heart failure. As the opera was incomplete, it was left toToscannini and Casa Ricordi, the publishing house, to decide how to finish the work. The publisher elected Franco Alfano for the job, a choice readily accepted by Toscannini and the composer's son, Antonio. Alfano was a distinguished teacher and composer, and had enjoyed respectable success with his own operas. He completed Puccini's Turandot, based on the composer's own musical notes and sketches, and the opera was premiered in Milan at La Scala on April 25, 1925. Toscannini brought the first performance to an end without continuing with Alfano's ending, laying down his baton and turning to the audience to announce "Here the opera ends, because at this point, the Maestro died." However, in subsequent performances during the season, he conducted the opera in its entirity, and of course, that is the way we hear it today.

Synopsis: The cold and beautiful Princess Turandot has sworn a vow that she will only marry a man of noble birth who is able to answer three riddles that she asks him. Many would-be suitors have tried in vain to win the Princess's hand, but the punishment for failure is death. A large crowd has gathered to witness the beheading of the latest victim, among them Timur, the deposed King of Tartary, and his slave girl, Liù. In the throngs of the crowd, they discover Calaf, Timur's son, whom they had believed killed in battle. The execution is about to begin and the crowd begs for mercy for the latest victim, but Turandot appears and orders the man to his death. Calaf is taken by her beauty, and decides to try to win her for himself by trying to answer the riddles. Suddenly three comic figures appear: they are Ping , Pang and Pong, ministers of the court, who try to dissuade Calaf from striking the gong that announces the arrival of a new suitor. But Calaf is resolute: he will melt the ice-maiden's heart. The trial begins: one by one, Calaf gives the correct answer to the three riddles the Princess poses. Turandot is mortified, and turns to the Emperor begging him not to wed her to the stranger, but he insists that the sacred vow must be fulfilled. Calaf, who wants the Princess's love, tells her that if she can discover his name by dawn, he will release her from the marriage vow. As the night wears on, Turandot decrees that no one must sleep until she knows the name of the unknown Prince. The three ministers try to lure Calaf with maidens, wealth and glory, but he refuses. The guards drag Timur and Liù in front of Turandot, who orders that Liù be tortured, as the slave girl has said that she alone knows the name of the stranger. However, Liù's secret love for Calaf brings her strength, and she stabs herself to death rather than give up his name to the cruel Princess. As her body is carried away in a funeral procession, Calaf and Turandot are left alone, and the Prince upbraids her for her cruelty and her cold heart. Insisting that love can make her human, he takes her in his arms and kisses her passionately, transforming the Princess who admits that she loves him in return. Calaf reveals his name to her, and as the dawn rises and the crowd gathers, the Princess tells them his name: it is Love. The crowd cheers and the couple are wed.

其实，说旋律，它算不上经典。论歌词，它也算不上唯美，配乐也不是最特别的，但是，无端每次听到它，就像嗅到芦荟的香氛，净化身心的感觉。不禁想到了过去的8年，幸福得直乐，想起自己也说过，回忆往事之笑—空虚，难道自己的现在就不快乐？哈，那是无聊赖的人饭饱后的无病呻吟。如果无聊，闭上眼睛，和我一起听“两个人的森林”何如？抑或是，自己蒙上头睡一觉怎样？

两个人的森林

从陌生到熟悉的距离一直是个谜
喜欢已半聋半哑的爱情
在我眼中的你样子无关耳朵眼睛
常梦见的森林里四下无人除了你
我不管别人怎么定义现实里的爱情
我相信我的梦境揭露的讯息
习惯了用孤独的表情
阻止别人靠近
却不怕被你发现我脆弱的心
渴望的心
我只要闭上眼睛想着你
就会出现两个人的森林
把体温交换成共同的记忆
世界很远心很近

   很在意室友的一句话，两年以来，我变了很多很多。记得前些日子也有一个男孩子说我变了很多，我有点惆怅。其实 ，我已经发觉自己的变化，不知怎的，有些怕，有些不知道该怎么应对。从前的我是太阳，阳光普照；现在，我自认为是夜空，繁星，明月，没有定数。没有了从前的阳光，我不能保证自己是否还可以给周围的人带来欢笑，还是真的像某些人说的那样，给别人的是冷傲。关于冷傲，小时候听到某些路人甲这样评价我，惊诧，我？冷吗？现在，我开始怀疑，好像是吧。

  上大学以来保持单身，很多朋友不能相信这是我可以做出的事情。我笑笑而已。从前，是因为不甘寂寞，现在，是习惯寂寞。不变的，是心底永远的城。小姨曾说，当听到某些对当年恋情无法释怀的歌时，她庆幸自己没有那种无病却可以呻吟的往事，在讲这番话的时候，她脸上的笑是那么无忧无虑，真正带来一地阳光。那时候，我告诉自己，我也要这样，在中年时也可以没心没肺、带着一脸骄傲神情自信地说，这辈子，我也没有那种恋情。

  双鱼座的南鱼和北鱼，象征未来和过去，它们在南天追逐彼此的尾巴，年年如是。由于背负着过去和未来，它们看起来总是矛盾又伤感。觉得挺像自己的，处于转型期的自己，背负着过去，憧憬着未来，加上自己生来水瓶座的理智，像个paradox，常常陷入自己的痴言妄语里，罢了罢了，不过是些不更事的抱怨。

  平静下来，想起他说过的一些话，恩，就是这首《有个人想我就好》，“你悄悄住进我的心灵城堡”……

怎么羡慕天空的飞鸟

没有爱的人很渺小
把你的发丝当成戒指绕
温柔烙印再也抹不掉谁忘得了
离别滋味我从不知道
等你的信啊天涯海角
它藏不住你的感情线条
隐隐约约我都看的到
有字句燃烧

有雪花轻飘   如获至宝
有个人想我就好

像被月光拥抱
你悄悄住进我的心灵城堡
寂寞越来越少
我们有彼此可依靠

有个人想我就好
像被月光拥抱你悄悄住进我的心灵城堡
黑暗偷偷潜逃

我能明了

你的沉默    你的笑
我终于明了

你有多重要……

   关于他的一切，都来自他自己的讲述，而证明是一张张照片。从前的他很帅气，阳光、动感，带有一丝邪恶的笑，你看见他，便觉得他有着世界上的一切美好，我也安心下来，在最轻狂时收起毕现的锋芒，静静靠在他的肩上。后来我知道，第0号男孩，牵着我的手陪我一直走的男孩，让我哭了笑了生气了安静了的男孩，给我无数时间的男孩，为我老去的男孩，送我离去的男孩，反复想念我的男孩，他那么爱我，一直爱我，为了我，他不再做男孩。

   他28岁的时候，也就是我出生的那一年，他舍弃了男孩的头衔，又没有多久，我开始呼唤他缠着他。

   我说，爸爸，我们去游乐园嘛~~

A Typical Symphony

First Movement                                     

           Usually, the first movement of a symphony is a fairly fast movement, weighty in content and feeling. The vast majority of first movements are in Sonata Form.

Second Movement

      In most symphonies, the second movement will be slow and solemn in character. Composers have used many different forms for slow movements——Sonata Form; Ternary form; Variations form; Rondo form; and combinations and modifications of these forms. In many cases, the order of the second and third movements will be interchanged, and the second movement will be a scherzo, and the third movement will be a slow movement (ie Beethoven's Ninth Symphony).

Third Movement

           The third movement of a symphony is, in most cases, a Scherzo (or a Minuet in Classical-period symphonies). Most scherzos are in Ternary form - however, many scherzos are in Rondo form (ie Mahler's Fifth Symphony). Some are even in Sonata Form (ie Brahms's Fourth Symphony). In many cases, the order of the second and third movements will be interchanged, and the second movement will be a scherzo, and the third movement will be a slow movement (ie Beethoven's Ninth Symphony).

Fourth Movement                                    
          Again, composers have used many different forms for their finale movements, such as Rondo form, Variations form, and Sonata Form.

     不是找刺激，而是我终于找到了真实的自己，呵呵，挺有感觉的不是吗？我会努力继续回忆从前以钢琴为伴的日子，和我一起来好吗？