这次的回归经典，我想把大家带回到九十年代中期，甚至，是九十年代初期。
    曾几何时，我们被莉香的执著乐观深深打动，看见里美出镜就恨得牙痒痒，同时感慨，完治真窝囊……我还记得，莉香送给完治的那个装着冰粒堆成的小雪人；记得，莉香绑在车站上的完治的手帕；记得，莉香最喜欢踢倒立在街边的空易拉罐；记得，雪地里，莉香和完治的华尔兹；记得，在完治的小学刻在门廊上的莉香和完治的名字；当然，我还记得这首永恒的主题曲—“突然发生的爱情故事”……
 
なにからつたえればいいのか
わからないままときはながれて
うかんではきえてゆく
ありふれたことばだけ
きみがあんまりすてきだから
ただすなおにすきといえないで
たぶんもうすぐあめもやんでふたり

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

     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.