The darkness of my cell will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Excerpted from Wordsworth's poem Ode: An Immortal Impression.

Our birth is just a sleep and forgetting;

The soul that rises with us, the star of our life,

It has its settings elsewhere,

Come from afar:

Not completely forgotten,

Not completely naked,

But we will come with the clouds of glory

From God, who is our home:

When we were young, heaven was around us!

The shadow of the prison began to close.

In a growing boy,

But he saw the light, where did it come from,

He saw this in joy;

Young people who stay away from the East every day.

Must travel, still be a natural priest,

And a beautiful vision

On the way to attend;

Finally, the man realized that it was dying.

Disappear into the ordinary sunshine.

Our life is just a symbol of sleep and forgetting:

Our souls, like celestial bodies, rise with us,

But destined to fall somewhere else, the star of our lives.

Our lives come from afar:

Not everyone was forgotten when they came,

Not naked, naked;

We drove the auspicious clouds,

Starting with God,

God is our home.

When we were babies,

Shined by the sky!

The shadow of the cell began to fall,

Cover my growing baby.

But the sky is drifting away,

Only god can see,

God saw the sky recede,

Laughing, laughing.

Youth is destined to get farther and farther away from the East day by day;

But the patron saint is still there,

Patron saint, brilliant image,

Accompany the whole process and eliminate the danger.

As an adult, I found that the skylight had already disappeared without a trace:

The skylight has melted in the sun.