An Excerpt from In The Autumn《秋》选段

The letter still hasn't arrived. The tung trees in the yard have lost their leaves

The cicada is chilling.

I still like to write on big leaves, smaller than grains of rice；

And love, or so big, not with my constantly lower body

Short on.

书信依旧未至。院子里的桐树落完了叶子

寒蝉凄切。

我还是喜欢在大片的叶子上写字，比米粒还小的；

而爱，还是那么大，没有随我不停矮下的身体，矮下去。