我认出了他,站在月台上,蓄着自我儿时起就蓄着的胡子,哔叽尼的风衣,牛仔裤,头发光滑的向后梳着。
He had seen dozens of sneering pretty boys with slicked-back hair who could barely read a high c, and here was this shy, awkward pianist who seemed like he could scrawl a symphony in his sleep.他碰到过许多爱嘲弄的帅气男孩,他们向后梳着油光的长发,却几乎认不得高音0调,而眼前的这个害羞而笨拙的钢琴演奏者却好似睡觉时都能随手写出交响曲。