多谢鲨鱼君的翻译！

多谢鲨鱼兄：

http://bbs.wenxuecity.com/zhongyiingfanyi/139986.html

 不装饰你的梦（粤语歌曲）
Don't Want to be Frills in Your Dream

愿意心痛苦 不装饰你的梦

I would rather you torment my heart than adorn your dream
别再将我心 反复的戏弄

My heart can’t tolerate any more triviality.  
宁愿我携着忧郁归去

Let me leave, with my melancholy
像刚消失那阵风
Just like that gust of fleeting wind
别再伤我心 它伤得那么重

Don’t stomp on my already ravaged heart
像块冰碎开 它显得太空洞

Just like a block of ice chattered, revealing too much emptiness
狂热与天真早消失了

Long gone were the rapture and innocence
在郁郁的岁月中
In those blue days
谁愿意一颗心永落空

Who wants his heart unmoored
谁愿意只装饰你的梦

Who only wants to be frills in your dream
宁任我的心在长期地痛

I would rather my heart throb in pain
亦不想给你抚弄
than be bruised in your game
让每声叹息 消失于你的梦

May your dream bereft of signs
让每点笑声 响于你的梦

May your dream replete with laughter
曾为你献出的点点真爱 在空气内流动

The remnant of my true love still lingers, unwilling to leave

 

Ok, to make it up for you, here is something I wrote before:

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How I Fell in Love with English (1)

 

I started to learn English at grade 5 in primary school. I did not know why we had to learn it and I did not want to know and I did not like it at all.


My English teacher was a middle-aged woman who had a strong local accent, but we had no idea what real English should sound like. Every other morning, we were forced to read along with her in a ridiculously dragged tone, like half-hearted singing of monks in a temple “Dis is a d...og, dat is a c...at....” However, that was not the worst part, due to my lack of interest in English, the morning reading exercise had never failed to put me into sleep. To look like I was reading, I stood my English book on the desk so I could hide my head behind it while I was dozing off- a little trick all slackers in school knew how to pull off. Then I quickly learned that was a bad idea. One day, without any warning, I was hit by something that shocked me out of my dream and followed by a boisterous laughter from the whole class. Then I realized I was just hit by a half chalk! My English teacher stared at me briefly and then resumed her rhythmic reading. The look on my face must be very funny, because it took a long time for the class to settle down.


I played this mouse and cat game with my English teacher for the rest of the summer. She had been getting better and better at throwing chalks. I never saw it coming, because everything happened so fast, until one day, I was stunned by what I saw when she threw a chalk at another boy. Her move was so fluently and gracefully accomplished, all I saw was a barely discernable shake of her wrist. I couldn’t help laughing my lungs out in admiration. I thought I deserved a break once in a while. I remained to be her primary target for as long as I could remember. I knew it was useless to hide myself behind the book, a chalk from her never stopped in its trajectory; after knocking down my book, it would invariably and persistently find its way to my head. If I was lucky, I could dodge first one, but that would infuriate her more and invite more chalks heading my way.


As you have probably surmised, my English scores were pathetic. Like every tragic ending had its bright side, mine brought me an unexpected benefit. The girl who was sharing the table with me was asked to help me out. I will elaborate on her in another story. What a fun!