How would a lark die.
“云雀为什么会死呢？”男孩伸直了双腿荡着秋千，傍晚的微弱光芒模糊了伤疤的轮廓，显得没那么怕人。
被猫叼走了，老死了，病死了，为什么你会问这些无聊的问题？这些回答哽在嗓子里，我张了张嘴，继续安静地蹬着秋千。某一瞬间我突然想起了早上看到小小的云雀的尸体，凌乱的羽毛粘着凝结的黑色血块和泥土，豆子一样的眼睛失去了光泽。我下意识后退了几步，可他没有。他盯着云雀最丑陋的样子，一语不发。
“阴沉的孩子！奇怪的孩子！”周围的人如是说道。
“云雀爱唱歌，爱欢笑，讨人喜欢，为什么这样的孩子会死呢？”男孩使劲儿蹬了一脚地面，秋千越荡越高。
“我不爱唱歌，不爱笑，不讨人喜欢，为什么我没有死？”秋千荡得很高了，我眯着眼看着他，逆光下他的背影羸弱不堪一击，总觉得下一秒就会消失。
“阴沉的孩子。奇怪的孩子。”
秋千再次达到最高点的时候，他松开了手，像云雀一样跃入一片金红色的，葡萄灰的，伊比利亚半岛红酒色的绚烂光芒之中。
“阴沉的孩子呵！奇怪的孩子呵！”
他没有死，因为他不爱唱歌，不爱笑，不讨人喜欢。
那一年我们都是十二岁，那一天是我们刚刚认识的第二天，是我开始讨厌他的第一天。
"How would a lark die?"He stretched out his legs to swing,tiny lights blurred his scars,which were not so scaring in the dusk.
Being carried away by a cat, died of old age, and died of illness. Why do you ask such silly questions? These answers stuck in my throat, I opened my mouth,then closed,kept on swinging in silence. For a moment, I suddenly remembered the little body I saw in the morning,messy feathers mixed with black gores and dust,pea like eyes lost their flames. I backed up a few steps subconsciously,but he didn't.He just fixed his eyes on the ugliest look of the lark,without a word.
"Gloomy child! Queer child!"said by the people around.
"Larks love singing,full of mirth and charm,how would a lark die?" The boy kicked the ground with strength,the swing swung higher and higher.
"I don't sing,so do the smiles and charming characters ,why I didn't die?" The swing had already been high enough. I squinted at him,he looked fragile in the backlights,as he would vanish in seconds.
"Gloomy child. Queer child."
When the swing reached its highest point again,he let go of his hand,and,like a lark,jumped into the dizzy light of golden red ,rosy,pale purple gray and Iberian wine.
"Gloomy child! Queer child!"
He didn't die. Because he doesn't like singing,so does smiling. He doesn't pleased anyone.
We were both at the age of 12 that year, it was the second day since we met,so does the first day I began to hate him.
出于英语书上一个单词lark引申出来的短打，出于无聊和喜欢标题翻译成了英文，如有错误欢迎指出√
以及看见我又短打了绝对不是一件好事，这一般代表这曾经是个条漫的脑洞，可是我懒了。
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