初秋的晴空干净彻亮,笔直的公路两旁,排排枫树正转暖着颜色。这条路上的车不算多,若不是在周六这样的出行日子,更是见不着几辆。一盏路灯的顶端停着一只灰鸽子。它在一辆黑色小轿车开过时,扑腾扑腾翅膀,飞向了遥远的云端。 车的外表看上去风尘仆仆,前后都铺着碎土和黄泥,轮子看上去也有些瘪了。即使如此,它英姿飒爽地驰骋而过,像草场上跑得最快的骏马,全然沐浴着明媚的阳光。车里,正放着今年的流行歌曲—— “Little yellow house sittin'on a hill, (山丘上的那座黄色小屋) That is where he lived, (他在那儿生活) That is where he died, (也在那儿死去) Every Sunday morning, (每个星期天清晨) Hear the weeping willows cry......”
“My momma was his only little girl, (我妈妈是他唯一的女孩) “If he'd had the money he'd have given her the world, (如果他有钱的话,他愿给她整个世界) “Sittin'on the front porch together they would sing, (他们会坐在门廊前一起歌唱) “Oh how I long to hear that harmony……” (我对么希望能再听一次那样的和音……)
I want a simple love like that, (多么渴望那种纯朴的爱) Always giving never asking back, (从来赠予,不求索取) When I'm in my final hour looking back, (弥留之际,当我回头凝望) I hopeI had a simple love like that……” (我多么希望,拥有那种爱……)