shmily翻译、shmily是什么意思?

[词典] 知道我有多么爱你(See How Much I Love You); 看我有多爱你; 知道我有多爱你;

[例句] Gr shmily, see how much I love you.

想想爱情很美好，而我从未拥有。

他是See how much i love you 的全拼。See how much I love you（知道我多么爱你）。

shmily的意思是：说出我有多爱你。

shmily怎么读：

shmily其实并不是一个被正规收录的一个单词，而是在暖心的小故事下逐渐被人们所熟悉的一个单词。shmily来源于一对很恩爱的祖母辈之间的爱情故事，故事是由他们的孙子孙女所流传的。故事说道这是一个祖父和祖母之间最爱的小游戏之一，双方会在日常生活中把写着shmily的纸条放进任何能够被对方发现的地方，例如冰箱里、桌子上、书里，甚至有时会摈弃纸条直接在浴室的迷雾中写下这个单词。

那时的孙子孙女们还不知道shmily单词的含义，只是对他们乐此不疲的小游戏表示好奇，直至祖母因病去世后，他们才去问祖父shmily的具体含义，原来shmily是“See How much I Love You”每一个单词的首字母。“See How much I Love You”该有多爱对方，才会每天不间断的向对方表达自己的爱意。这个单词让所有人瞬间了解到了爱情的真谛，也让很多热恋中的情侣有了一个表达爱意的单词。

扩展资料：

故事全部：

我的祖父和祖母结婚已逾半个世纪，然而多少年来，他们彼此间不倦地玩着一个特殊的游戏：在一个意想不到的地方写下“Shmily”这个词留待对方来发现。他们轮换着在屋前房后留下“Shmily”，一经对方发现，就开始新的一轮。 他们用手指在糖罐和面箱里写下“Shmily”，等着准备下一餐饭的对方来发现；他们在覆着霜花的玻璃上写下“Shmily”；一次又一次的热水澡后，总可以看见雾气蒙罩的镜子上留下的“Shmily”。 有时，祖母甚至会重卷一整卷卫生纸，只为了在最后一片纸上写下“Shmily”。 

没有“Shmily”不可能出现的地方。仓促间涂写的“Shmily”会出现在汽车坐垫上，或是一张贴在方向盘轴心的小纸条上。这一类的字条会被塞进鞋子里或是压在枕下。 “Shmily”会被书写在壁炉台面的薄尘上，或是勾画在炉内的灰底上。这个神秘的词，像祖父母的家具一样成了他们房间的一部分。 直到很久以后，我才能完全理解祖父母之间游戏的意义。

年轻时我不懂得爱——那种纯洁且历久弥坚的爱。然而，我从未怀疑过祖父母之间的感情。他们彼此深爱。他们的小游戏已远非调情消遣，那是一种生活方式。他们之间的感情是基于一种深挚的爱和献身精神，不是每一个人都能体验到的。 

祖父和祖母一有机会就彼此执手相握。他们在小厨房里错身而过时偷吻；他们说完彼此的半截句子；他们一起玩拼字和字谜游戏。祖母常忘情地对我耳语祖父有多可爱迷人，依然还是那么帅气。她骄傲地宣称自己的确懂得“如何选择”。每次餐前他们垂首祈祷时，感谢他们受到的诸多福佑：一个幸福的家庭、好运道和拥有彼此。 可是一片乌去遮蔽了祖父母的家：祖母的癌恶化了。

首次发现是在10年前。跟以往一样，祖父总是跟祖母肩并肩地走过人生艰难之旅的每一步。为了安慰祖母，祖父将他们的卧房喷涂成黄色，这样在祖母病重不能出屋时，亦能感到周围的阳光。 起先，在祖父坚实的手臂和拐杖的帮扶下，他们每天清晨一起去教堂散步和默祷。但随着祖母日见虚弱，终于，祖父只能独自去教堂，祈求上帝看顾他的妻子。 然而那一天，我们担心忧惧的事终于还是发生了，祖母去了。

“Shmily”写在祖母葬礼上花束的黄色缎带上。当人群散去，叔伯、姑姑和其他的家庭成员又走上前来最后一次围聚在祖母身旁。祖父步向祖母的灵柩，用颤抖的声音轻轻的唱起“知道我有多么爱你……”透过悲伤的泪，这歌声低沉轻柔地飘入耳来…… 我终于明白了他们特殊小游戏的意义“S— h— m— I— l— y”：“See how much I love you（知道我多么爱你）”。 因悲伤而颤栗着，我永远无法忘记那一刻.谢谢你们，祖父祖母，是你们让我懂得了什么是爱 。

英文：

Sometimes some little things can teach us a lot.

My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more. They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. 

"Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet. There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.

It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grand-parents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down pat.It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky to experience. Grandma and Grandpa hold hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble.. 

My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em." Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other. But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way.

He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside. Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore.

For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone. "Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet.

As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath and then he began to sing to her. Through his tears , the song came, deep and slow.

Thank you，grandpa and grandma，for letting me see.

S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.

By Laura Jeanne Allen