I looked and looked at her, and

I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth. She was only the dead-leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago， but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man*s child. She could fade and wither ， I didn*t care. I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.
我望着她，望了又望，昔日如花妖冶，现在只剩枯骨还乡。苍白，臃肿，混俗，腹中有别人的骨肉。但我爱她，她可以褪色，可以凋谢，怎样都可以。但只要我看她一眼，万般柔情涌上心头。