对于年轻时的我而言，所有的矛盾都不是问题——无非是一种忙碌状态下的空虚。In my youth, all conflict was resolution—just a busier form of emptiness.
他们作为我的父母只有一次机会。他们也是我在这个浩渺宇宙中唯一的父母。我不知道自己现在站在魁北克城的雨中想念着他们，他们是否会有所感觉——感觉到我像一只小动物那样撒娇般地啮咬着他们。They will only ever be my parents once. They are the only parents I will ever have in the history of the universe. I wonder if they feel me thinking about them here in Quebec City in the rain—I wonder if they feel me like a small animal gnawing them affectionately.
The muscles in my bowing arm tighten. The final notes are sonorous; I steady my bow like an oar held in a river, steering us all toward the bank of now and tomorrow and the day after that. Days ahead like open fields.
And night pools outside the concert hall. The city is still wet. The concert hall is glassed in and overlooks a garden. Eyes of rain dot the windows and shiver with each breath of wind. Stars fill the sky, then drop to flood the streets and the squares. When it rains, even the most insignificant puddle is a map of the universe.