新年的夜晚。一位老人伫立在窗前。他悲戚地举目遥望苍天,繁星宛若玉色的百合漂浮在澄静的湖面上。老人又低头看看地面,几个比他自己更加无望的生命正走向它们的归宿──坟墓。老人在通往那块地方的路上,也已经消磨掉六十个寒暑了。在那旅途中,他除了有过失和懊悔之外,再也没有 New Year’s night. An old man stands at the window. He stared sadly at the heavens, and the lilies, like the stars, floated on the clear lake. The old man looked down at the ground again, and several more hopeless lives than himself were heading towards their destination, the tomb. The old man had already consumed 60 cold and heat on the way to that place. In that journey, he had no more than negligence and remorse.