1)I straightened up and looked out of the window at the dark clouds hanging over the North Sea, thinking of all I had lost in the course of my life: times gone for ever, friends who had died or disappeared, feelings I would never know again. 于是，我坐直了身子，望向飞机窗外，望向北海之上漂浮着的大朵黑云。思想同时也游离开来，想到生命中逝去的时辰（书里面，主人公此时37岁）、或死去或失散不见的朋友、已惘然的前情旧绪。
2）The stewardess came to check on me again. This time she sat next to me and asked if I was all right. “I’m fine, thanks,” I said with a smile. “Just feeling kind of blue.” “I know what you mean,” she said. “It happens to me, too, every once in a while.” 空姐走了过来，在我身边坐定，问我是否还好。 “谢谢泥我没事”，我笑笑，“只是有些失落” “明白”她说“我也这样，间歇性的”
3) Memory is a funny thing. When I was in the scene I hardly paid it any attention. I never stopped to think of it as something that would make a lasting impression, certainly never imagined that 18 years later I would recall it in such detail. 记忆真是有趣的事物。在那个情形的时候，我常常都不会刻意关注。然而对于从未想过会留了烙印的场景，谁又知道在18年后想起来竟然是历历在目、活然于眼前。
4) True, given time enough, I can remember her face. I start joining images – her tiny, cold hand; her straight, black hair so smooth and cool to the touch; a soft, rounded earlobe and the microscopic mole just beneath it; the camel-hair coat she wore in the winter; her habit of looking straight that would come to her voice now and then (as though she were speaking on a windy hilltop) – and suddenly her face is there, always in profile at first, because Naoko and I were always out walking together, side by side. Then she turns to me and smiles, and tilts her head just a little, and begins to speak, and she looks into my eyes as if trying to catch the image of a minnow that has darted across the pool of a limpid spring. 是，给我足够时间的话，我依然能够想起Naoko的脸庞。从沟沟壑壑中一丝丝拉出尘封的回忆 － 冰冷的纤小的素手；乌黑釉长的直发；圆润的耳垂及耳下的一点微小胎记；她在冬天常穿的那件骆驼皮外套；在说话中不时往前方看的习惯（声音因此受断续之影响，好像她在一个风大的山顶） － 倏然间，她的面容就浮现了，但通常先是侧面，因为我和她总是并肩而行。然后，然后她会转向我，微笑，略侧一下脑袋，开始和我说话。她深深的看着我的眼睛，好似里面有小鱼儿在清澈的泉水里活蹦乱跳般。
It takes time, though, for Naoko’s face to appear. And as the years have passed, the time has grown longer. The sad truth is that what I could recall in 5 seconds all too soon needed 10, then 30, then a full minute - like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the shadows will be swallowed up in darkness. There is no way around it: my memory is growing ever more distant from the spot where Naoko used to stand - where my old self used to stand. 要记起Naoko的面容却要花费时间。岁月消逝，所要花费的时间竟也越长。我难过的是，原本在5秒内能回想起的笑餍很快退变为10秒、30秒，接着是1分钟，就像灰尘中拉长的倒影。我想，终有一日，这倒影将被暗黑吞噬。我也没有办法了啊-对于昨日之我曾与Naoko并肩而立的记忆竟似愈发惘然。
And nothing but scenery, that view of the meadow in October, returns again and again to me like a symbolic scene in a film. Each time it appears, it delivers a kick to some part of my mind. Wake up, it says. I’m still here. Wake up and think about it. Think about why I’m still here. The kicking never hurts me. There’s no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. At Hamburg airport, though, the kicks were longer and harder than usual. Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I’m made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them. 惟有十月草原那景象像电影中的标志性场景般一直在脑海中闪过。每次划过都触动我脑海中的某个部分。“醒醒！”它说，“我还在这。醒过来想想，想想我为何还在此。”这种闪念不痛苦，亦不伤人。只是每一下都带了回声的闪念。这回念有一天也要离我而去罢。身处汉堡机场，这闪念强烈起来，因此我决定把写下来。去思考、希冀理解。生性如此，我只有把事情全记录才会觉得我真正理解了。
I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the dignity of the individual soul to the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a story is to sound an alarm, to keep a light trained on the System in order to prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and demeaning them. I truly believe it is the novelist’s job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness of each individual soul by writing stories--stories of life and death, stories of love, stories that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter. This is why we go on, day after day, concocting fictions with utter seriousness.
Meryayichen，from your comment for the lecture of 村上，i think you should be a girl with emotion who likes reading,writing,having your idea about life and always is eager to make it come true one day.
