断壁似残牙，

                                          巨石上的花纹述说着往昔的光荣。

                                          权杖，财富，美色，如云在空中飘过，

                                          唯信仰如日、如月，如星空长存。

                                          毁城的原因不是中计，而是与神失和。

                                          碣色的夕阳下废墟静静地躺着，

                                          返程的汽车渐行渐远，

                                          特洛伊像散戏的舞台一样定格记忆。

                                          争夺美女、权杖、财富的戏还再继续。

                                          盲诗人早已为后人写好剧本，

                                          一代又一代人反复演出。

 

                                          太阳底下没有新鲜的事情。

                                          斜坡上，一群白羊吃着夕阳下的绿草。

 

                                                                                   
 

       

 

                                                        Trojan Ruins

 

                                        Dilapidated walls like teeth of residual root,


                                        The decorative pattern on huge stones tell the glory of the past.

                                        Power, wealth, beauty,
Like a cloud in the sky,


                                        Only faith lives forever like the sun, the moon, the stars.

                                        The cause of the ruined city was not entrapment,

                                        but being estranged with God.


                                        Ruins lying quietly under the red setting sun.

                                        The return car gradually moves further away,

                                        Troy like the stage after the play is fixed in my memory.


                                        the play to fight for power, wealth and beauty continues.


                                       The blind poet has written the script for later generations long ago,

                                       Generation after generation play it again and again.

 

                                       There is nothing new under the sun.


                                       On the slopes, a group of white sheep eat grass at sunset.