迪丽热巴最近很喜欢她。
演的自然又不做作。
还很漂亮。

克拉恋人
其实也是一部很恶心很傻的脑残剧。
平常我肯定是不看的。
当然正常我也没看。
只看了迪丽热巴CUT部分。

When you are old 当你老了
--- William Butler Yeats ——威廉·巴特勒·叶芝
When you are old and grey and full of sleep, 当你老了，头发花白，睡意沉沉
And nodding by the fire，take down this book, 倦坐在炉边，取下这本书来
And slowly read,and dream of the soft look 慢慢读着，追梦当年的眼神
Your eyes had once,and of their shadows deep; 你那柔美的神采与深幽的晕影。
How many loved your moments of glad grace, 多少人爱过你昙花一现的身影
And loved your beauty with love false or true, 爱过你的美貌，以虚伪或真情
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you 惟独一人曾爱你那朝圣者的心
And loved the sorrows of your changing face; 爱你哀戚的脸上岁月的留痕
And bending down beside the glowing bars, 在炉罩边低眉弯腰
Murmur,a little sadly,how Love fled 忧戚沉思，喃喃而语
And paced upon the mountains overhead 爱情是怎样逝去，又怎样步上群山
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. 怎样在繁星之间藏住了脸。

Adam’s Curse
We sat together at one summer’s end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry.
I said, ‘A line will take us hours maybe;
Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought,
Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
Better go down upon your marrow-bones
And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
For to articulate sweet sounds together
Is to work harder than all these, and yet
Be thought an idler by the noisy set
Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen
The martyrs call the world.’
And thereupon
That beautiful mild woman for whose sake
There’s many a one shall find out all heartache
On finding that her voice is sweet and low
Replied, ‘To be born woman is to know—
Although they do not talk of it at school—
That we must labour to be beautiful.’
That woman then
Murmured with her young voice, for whose mild sake
There’s many a one shall find out all heartache
In finding that it’s young and mild and low.
‘There is one thing that all we women know,
Although we never heard it at school—
That we must labour to be beautiful.’
I said, ‘It’s certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam’s fall but needs much labouring.
There have been lovers who thought love should be
So much compounded of high courtesy
That they would sigh and quote with learned looks
Precedents out of beautiful old books;
Yet now it seems an idle trade enough.’
We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time’s waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.
I had a thought for no one’s but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in an old high way of love;
That it had all seemed happy, and yet we’d grown
As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.