那个背影，我从来都没有如此留恋，如此不舍。像刻在心间般难忘，泪水倔强的不肯掉落，却在心间悄然绽放……
That figure, I have never been so nostalgic, so reluctant. As engraved in the heart as unforgettable, stubborn tears refused to fall, but quietly bloom in the heart
那次的演讲活动爸爸来参加，他一向认为这样的活动很是无趣，不如在家睡觉的好。可活动开始后，他却听的异常认真，全然无之前的漫不经心。他总是这样的口是心非。
Dad came to the speech activity. He always thought it was boring and better to sleep at home. But after the activity began, he listened to it very carefully, without any previous carelessness. He is always such a duplicity.
渐渐地，演讲到动情之处，周围的低泣声，混成一片。我始终低垂着头，两手局促不安的用力绞着衣角。双目无神的四处游走，却始终不敢直视他的目光。到我终于鼓起勇气时，缓缓抬眸望向他。发现爸爸的眼睛在夕阳下，亮亮的。见此，我颇踌躇的抬手欲用手背给他擦擦。他却身形一顿，向后偏了偏，我呆呆的望了望落空的手，眼角微微发涩。
Gradually, the speech to the emotional place, around the low cry, mixed into one. I always lowered my head and wring the corners of my clothes with uneasy hands. His eyes wandered around, but he never dared to look at him directly. When I finally got up my courage, I raised my eyes slowly and looked at him. Found dad's eyes in the sunset, bright. Seeing this, I hesitated to wipe him with the back of my hand. However, he had a big body, leaning back. I looked at the lost hand in a daze, and the corners of my eyes were slightly astringent.
夕阳渐渐西斜，活动临了，爸爸将要离开了。我并未挽留，不是不想，而是我不知道如何去挽留、又以什么什么样的理由去挽留?夕阳下，爸爸的背影好矮、好矮，我仿佛看见年老的爸爸在时空中穿梭。他的脚步一起一落，每一步都好似踏在我的心间，好重好重。到楼梯口时，他一手搭在扶手上，另一手腋下夹着外套。步履踏在一级级台阶上，我的目光循着他的步子一级一级……
The setting sun is gradually setting in the west, and the activity is coming. Dad is going to leave. I didn't detain, not don't want to, but I don't know how to detain, and what kind of reason to detain? In the sunset, my father's back is so short, so short, I seem to see the old father shuttle in time and space. His steps fall together, each step seems to step on my heart, so heavy and heavy. When he got to the stairway, he put one hand on the handrail and his coat under his arm. Step by step, step by step, my eyes follow his steps
过转弯处，他的头似不经意间微微偏向我着一边，我匆忙回身，逃避他的视线。时间艰涩的挪动脚步，似一霎那，又好似很久、很久。当我再回头时，转弯处，再不见了那个温暖而又熟悉的背影。目光一遍又一遍地略过人流，却再也找不着了。终究作罢，坐回我的座位。手轻抚在哪个爸爸曾经坐过的座位上，那里还残余着温度。却不知是他的，还是夕阳的馈赠。手指收拢，似要把温暖留在掌心。
After the turn, his head seemed to turn slightly to my side. I turned back in a hurry to avoid his sight. Time moves with difficulty, like a moment, and like a long, long time. When I look back, the turning, no longer see the warm and familiar back. His eyes passed the stream of people over and over again, but he couldn't find it again. After all, go back to my seat. Hand caress in which father once sat on the seat, where there is still residual temperature. But I don't know if it's his gift or the sunset. Fingers close, as if to keep the warmth in the palm.
那个被夕阳浸湿被爱晕染的背影。太阳会落山，记忆会消散，爱却永远不会忘怀……
The back soaked by the setting sun and dyed by love. The sun will set, the memory will disappear, but love will never forget