恶之乐今天早上,我尽管知道这是在犯罪,可还是听了亨利·珀塞尔作曲的《当我长眠地下时》。我哭出来时,并不是因为我感到羞耻。那些是喜乐之泪;我被音乐之美解除了防备。此刻我哭泣着,手里拿着榔头,脚边躺着黑色虫胶唱片的碎片,但我现在不是在为音乐而哭泣。或许,如今没人会再次听到这首狄多的挽歌。我无法忍受那种念头,可我还有什么选择呢?现在我看到了音乐为何是如此危险。让我解释一下:是的,我能听见音乐。我们这种人确实存在,谣言是真的。出于各种各样的原因,有些人 This morning, though I knew it was a crime, I listened to Henry Purcell’s composition, “When I Sleep, Underground.” When I was crying, it was not because I was ashamed. Those are tears of joy; I was relieved of the beauty of music. At the moment I was crying, with a hammer in my hand and pieces of black shellac on my feet, but I was not crying for music right now. Perhaps, no one will hear the dough elegy’s darling again. I can not stand the idea, but I have what choice? Now I see why the music is so dangerous. Let me explain: Yes, I can hear music. Such people do exist, rumors are true. For a variety of reasons, some people