I have worked here since graduation,
Thirty years woven into every class.
Once I called this place my second family,
Gave all my heart to every lesson.
Colleagues like family, side by side,
But now—why has everything changed?
Why do I cry so hard, so unwillingly?
I just want to escape, now, at once,
To leave this air grown thick and heavy.
I can barely breathe—
That is the truth, the key.
I cannot imagine:
This place where thirty years took root,
Now a space I strain to flee.
Yes, everything has changed:
Old buildings dismantled,
Green trees felled.
Flowers are no more
People, too, have shifted shape.
So listen, follow your heart—
Leave.
This is no longer the “here” you knew.
Here lies only memories alone.
逃离
自毕业我便在此工作，
三十年光阴，织入每一节的课堂。
我曾视此为第二个家，
将全心魂，献予这所有的每一课堂。
同事如亲人，朝夕并肩，
而今——何以万物更迭？
何以泪如雨下，如此不甘？
我只想逃离，此刻，即刻，
逃离这日益沉滞的空气。
我几乎无法呼吸——
那便是事实，是关键。
我无法置信：
这三十载生根之处，
竟成我奋力挣脱的牢笼。
是的，万物皆已变迁：
旧楼倾颓，
绿树凋零，
繁花无踪。
人，亦改换了形容。
故而倾听，追随你的心——
离去。
这里，不再是“这里”。
此地，唯余记忆伶仃。
