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"The Prose of My Father" Performed by : Li Jian
It’s 1984. The crop has to be reaped.
The son is in my arms, soundly asleep.
The outdoor film tonight, got no time to watch.
Wife reminds me to fix, the sewing machine's pedal.
Gotta lend more money from my neighbor tomorrow.
The children cried the whole day, begging for cookies.
Beneath the blue khaki coat, the shame drills in my heart.
Right by the pond I punched, twice myself.
These are lines from the diary of my father.
They are what his youth left,
left in prose.
My tears flow as I read them years later.
But my father is already old, like a fading shadow.
It’s 1994. The crop is reaped long ago.
The year before my old mom, passed away.
My son wears a white shirt, and runs into the school.
But he’s been weary these days, and lost much weight.
Someday I will become, a pile of old joss paper.
By then my son will have become, a real man.
A lovely girl,
would marry him.
I hope for them,
life won’t be as tough.
These are lines from the diary of my father.
They are what his life left,
left in prose.
My tears flow as I read them, years later.
But my father is already old, like a fading shadow.
These are lines from the diary of my father.
They are what his life left,
left in prose.
My tears flow as I read them, years later.
But my father is like an old newspaper in the wind.
These are the footprints of their generation.
After all the winds and rains, its trace will be gone.
I once couldn't stop my tears, upon this land.
What kind of heartbroken tales, does it carry?
Thank you. (Subtitles and Timing brought to you by: MrLeoKinmann)
(Subtitles and Timing brought to you by: MrLeoKinmann)