Paroles et traduction Jackie Chan - 物是人非

物是人非

物是人非事事休
欲語淚濕春衫袖
高樓與誰上 願醉千杯酒
往事化成愁心不丟
孤影人瘦月如鉤
夢醒情亂問幾度秋
聚散苦匆匆 此恨無窮又無頭
喋喋不休

歲月那麼久 記憶那麼舊
臥窗聽雨心思如殘柳
不見去年人小道無人走
何時晴朗夕陽照西樓
挑燈黃昏風搖人羞
鳳笙淚時吹舉杯愁更愁
苦短人生競什麼風流
物非物人非人 緣分百年修

物是人非事事休
欲語淚濕春衫袖
高樓與誰上 願醉千杯酒
往事化成愁 心不丟
孤影人瘦月如鉤
夢醒情亂問幾度秋
聚散苦匆匆 此恨無窮又無頭
喋喋不休

歲月那麼久 記憶那麼舊
臥窗聽雨心思如殘柳
不見去年人小道無人走
何時晴朗夕陽照西樓
挑燈黃昏風搖人羞
鳳笙淚時吹舉杯愁更愁
苦短人生競什麼風流
物非物人非人 緣分百年修

Things Remain the Same, People Change

Things remain the same; everything else is gone
I want to tell you, but tears wet my spring shirt sleeve
To whom will I climb the tall building with? I wish to drink a thousand cups of wine
The past has turned into sorrow and weighs on my heart
A lonely figure, thin and the moon is shaped like a hook
Waking from a dream, love confused, I wonder how many autumns have passed
Gathering and scattering, bitter and rushed, this sorrow is endless, yet has no source
Unceasing chatter

The years are so long, the memories so old
Lying by the window listening to the rain, my thoughts are like broken willows
Last year's person is gone, the small path无人走
When will it be clear? The setting sun shines on the west tower
Under the dim light of the lamp, the wind sways the person in shame
The sound of the phoenix flute makes me weep, as I raise my cup, my sorrow deepens
Life is short, why compete for fame?
Things are not things, people are not people, fate is cultivated over a hundred years

Things remain the same; everything else is gone
I want to tell you, but tears wet my spring shirt sleeve
To whom will I climb the tall building with? I wish to drink a thousand cups of wine
The past has turned into sorrow and weighs on my heart
A lonely figure, thin and the moon is shaped like a hook
Waking from a dream, love confused, I wonder how many autumns have passed
Gathering and scattering, bitter and rushed, this sorrow is endless, yet has no source
Unceasing chatter

The years are so long, the memories so old
Lying by the window listening to the rain, my thoughts are like broken willows
Last year's person is gone, the small path无人走
When will it be clear? The setting sun shines on the west tower
Under the dim light of the lamp, the wind sways the person in shame
The sound of the phoenix flute makes me weep, as I raise my cup, my sorrow deepens
Life is short, why compete for fame?
Things are not things, people are not people, fate is cultivated over a hundred years