I think of my pile of old paperbacks, their pages gone wobbly, like they’d once belonged to the sea.
我想起我那堆旧平装书,书页已经变得松软,仿佛它们曾经属于大海。
一支箫一把剑是我平生的志向,辜负了狂名十五年。
"The scars of your love remind me of us."