摘要：The silence of the dead of night is the blank space of the soul, allowing thoughts to stretch and curl up freely. The awakening of

不必强求他人剖白真话，每个举动都是无声的答案。我选择沉默凝视，让真相在行为的褶皱里自然显形。

There is no need to force others to tell the truth, every action is a silent answer. I chose to stare in silence and let the truth emerge naturally in the folds of my actions.

深夜的寂静是灵魂的留白，任思绪在自由里舒展蜷缩；清晨的苏醒是生活的续写，带着昨夜未凉的梦，重新踏入人间的烟火与规则。

The silence of the dead of night is the blank space of the soul, allowing thoughts to stretch and curl up freely. The awakening of the morning is a continuation of life, carrying the still cool dream of last night, and stepping back into the hustle and bustle and rules of the human world.

不是岁月磨平了脾气的棱角，而是一路的风雨将尖锐锻打成温柔的形状——那些曾被碰撞的、刺痛的、妥协的过往，早已在时光里酿成坦然，让内心在沉淀中悄然生长出接纳的勇气。

It is not the passage of time that has smoothed out the sharp edges of one's temper, but the wind and rain along the way that have forged the sharpness into a gentle shape. Those past experiences that were once collided with, pricked, and compromised have long been transformed into composure in the passage of time, allowing the heart to quietly grow the courage to accept in the process of sedimentation.

白昼里必须把情绪折叠成标准微笑，待夜色漫过窗棂，才敢在枕头里松开那些蜷缩的眼泪。前有老母倚门，不敢停步；账户余额单薄，不敢懈怠；无人可倚的岁月里，连疲惫都要调成静音模式。

During the day, one must fold emotions into a standard smile. Only when the night passes through the window lattice can one dare to let go of those curled tears in the pillow. There was an old mother leaning against the door in front, not daring to stop. The account balance is thin and I dare not slack off. In the years when there is no one to rely on, even exhaustion has to be put on silent mode.

坚强是铠甲，独立是退路，早已在风雨里长成别无选择的生存法则。走走停停间，半生已在身后铺成蜿蜒的路。

Strength is armor, independence is a fallback option. They have long grown into survival rules that no other choice in the wind and rain. As I walked and stopped, half of my life had already paved a winding road behind me.

看懂了人情往来的潜规则，见证过人性浮沉的多面镜，后来便渐渐合上了倾诉的唇瓣。不是丧失了与人共舞的能力，而是厌倦了为每一场相遇都校准表情的戏码。

Having understood the unspoken rules of human interactions and witnessed the multi-faceted mirror of human nature's ups and downs, I gradually closed my lips to pour out my heart. It's not that I've lost the ability to dance with others, but that I'm tired of the drama of calibrating expressions for every encounter.

你举着肉碗时，总有人凑上来问“香不香”。你啃着窝头时，却只剩风穿过街巷，没谁肯驻足问“苦不苦”世人惯会在盛宴上夸赞肉香，却在洗碗时嫌水脏，他们只爱盯着光鲜的表面，却看不见油污里浸泡的掌纹。

When you hold the bowl of meat, there are always people coming up and asking, "Does it smell good?" When you are munching on a steamed bun, only the wind is blowing through the streets and alleys. No one is willing to stop and ask, "Is it bitter?" People are accustomed to praising the meaty flavor at feasts, but when washing dishes, they complain about the dirty water. They only love to stare at the shiny surface, but fail to see the palm lines soaked in the grease.

年岁渐长，该经历的、不该经历的都已浸润成生命的纹路：不过是两种结局，要么在淬炼中见了成效，要么在跌撞里成了笑谈。天大的事，待热气腾腾的茶凉下去，再回头看，也不过是时光长河里一粒微尘。

As one grows older, both what should be experienced and what should not have been experienced have seeped into the veins of life: there are only two possible endings: either one sees results in the process of tempering, or one becomes a laughingstock in the face of stumbles. No matter how great the matter is, when the steaming hot tea cools down, looking back, it is just a speck of dust in the long river of time.

从前是捧着一颗心，向所有在乎的人奔赴。如今学会了看谁眼里有光，才肯递出温热的手掌。心软是掌心的糖，给值得的人甜；若次次都化在泥里，便是错付了温柔。

In the past, I held a heart and rushed towards all the people I cared about. Now I have learned to see whose eyes sparkle before I am willing to offer my warm palm. A soft heart is like the sugar in the palm of your hand, bringing sweetness to those who deserve it. If every time it melts into the mud, it is a mistake of giving in tenderness.

来源：鸣月清风