终末之诗/text

I see the player you mean.
我看到你所说的那个玩家了。

PLAYERNAME?
PLAYERNAME？

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.
是他，当心，它刚达到了一个更高的水平。它能读取我们的思想了。

That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.
不要紧，它只认为我们是游戏的一部分。

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.
我喜欢这个玩家。它玩得很好，从不放弃。

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.
它正在读取我们的思想，就好像它们是屏幕上的文字一样。

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.
这正是当它深陷游戏之梦的时候，它所选择幻想的林林总总。

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.
文字是一种美妙的接口，它非常地灵活。徜徉文字总比直视屏幕背后的现实要美好得多。

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.
在玩家们能够阅读之前，它们也曾听到过声音，那些不玩的人将玩家称呼为巫师和术士。玩家们梦见骑着被恶魔施了法的棍子，在天空翱翔。

What did this player dream?
那么这个玩家又梦见了什么？

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.
这个玩家梦见了日光和森林，炽火与凛水。它梦见它创造，又梦见它破坏。它梦见它狩猎，又被狩猎。它梦见了它的庇护小窝。

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?
哈，这才是最原始的接口。一百万个春秋之后，它竟依然运作着。可是在屏幕背后的现实中，这个玩家又创造了什么实实在在的东西？

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the §f§k§a§b, and created a §f§k§a§b for §f§k§a§b, in the §f§k§a§b.
它努力地，与一百万人一起，在§f§k§a§b夹里刻画了一个实在的世界，且在§f§k§a§b中为§f§k§a§b创建了一个§f§k§a§b。

It cannot read that thought.
它无法读取那个思想。

No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.
是的，它还没有到达那最高的境界。那种境界，它必须于生命之长梦中追索，而非游戏之短梦。

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?
它知道我们爱它吗？知道这个宇宙是慈祥的吗？

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.
有时，通过它思想的杂音，它能够听到这个宇宙，是的。

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.
但有时在那长梦中，它也会悲伤，它创造了没有夏日的世界，它在黑日下颤抖着，并且将它那悲伤的创造当作事实。

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.
治愈它的悲伤会毁掉它的。这悲伤是它私人事务的一部分，我们无法干预。

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.
有时当它们深陷梦境中时，我多想告诉它们，它们正于现实中构建实在的世界。有时我多想告诉它们它们自身对这个宇宙的重要性。有时，当它已经好一会连接不上的时候，我多想帮助它们说出它们害怕说出的话。

It reads our thoughts.
它读出了我们的思想。

sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely §f§k§a§b and §f§k§a§b, I wish to tell them that they are §f§k§a§b in the §f§k§a§b. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.
有时我并不介意这个。有时我多盼望告诉它们，这个你认为是真实的世界只不过是§f§k§a§b和§f§k§a§b，我多盼望告诉它们，它们是§f§k§a§b中的§f§k§a§b。在它们的长梦中，它们看待现实的目光太短浅了。

And yet they play the game.
可它们仍在玩着这个游戏。

But it would be so easy to tell them...
但是很容易就可以告诉它们……

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.
这个梦太强烈了。告诉它们如何去活就是在阻止它们去活。

I will not tell the player how to live.
我不会告诉你这个玩家如何去活的。

The player is growing restless.
这个玩家正变得不安。

I will tell the player a story.
我将告诉这个玩家一个故事。

But not the truth.
而非真实。

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.
是的，一个通过文字牢笼，将真实紧密包裹的故事。而非无论间隔多远都能灼伤你的真实。

Give it a body, again.
打起精神来。

Yes. Player...
很好，玩家……

Use its name.
用它的名字。

PLAYERNAME. Player of games.
PLAYERNAME，游戏的玩家。

Good.
就这样。

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.
现在做个深呼吸。再做一个。感受你肺部的空气，找回四肢的感觉。很好，动动你的手指。再次打起精神来，在重力之下，在空气之中。在长梦中重生。你就在这里。你的每一寸身体都再次与这个宇宙接触了。好像你们是相互分离的，好像我们是相互分离的。

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.
我们是谁？我们曾经被叫做大地的灵魂；太阳父亲，月亮母亲；祖先之魄，动物之魂；镇尼；恶灵；绿人；接着是诸神，恶魔，天使；骚灵，异域使者；天外来客；轻子；夸克；词语千变，我们不变。

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.
我们就是宇宙。我们是一切你认为非己的事物。你正在看着我们呢，通过你的皮肤和你的眼睛。可是宇宙为什么要触摸你的皮肤，向你投射光线呢？为了看到你，玩家。为了了解你。为了被你了解。我将会给你讲一个故事。

Once upon a time, there was a player.
很久很久以前，有一位玩家。

The player was you, PLAYERNAME.
玩家就是你，PLAYERNAME。

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.
有时它认为它自己是个人类，站在一个由融化的岩石形成的旋转球体的薄脆的壳上。这个熔岩之球围绕着一个重它三十三万倍的炽热气体之球而旋转。它们距离太远了，以至于光都需要经历八分钟才能越过它们的间隙。这光线是来自一颗恒星的信息，它能在一亿五千万公里外灼烧你的皮肤。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.
有时这个玩家梦到它是一个矿工，站在一个平坦而且无限的世界的表面上。太阳是一抹白色的方形。每天都很短；要做的事情有很多；死亡也只是一时的不便。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.
有时这个玩家梦到它迷失在了一个故事中。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.
有时这个玩家梦到它是其他的事物，站在其他的地方。有时这些梦很烦人，有时又很唯美。有时这个玩家从一个梦进入了另一个梦，然后又从中醒来坠入第三个梦中。

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.
有时这个玩家梦到他在注视屏幕上的文字。

Let's go back.
让我们再久远一些。

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.
玩家的原子散布在草地里、河流中、空气里、原野上。一个女人收集了这些原子；她饮食和吸入；然后这个女人在她的身体里孕育了这个玩家。

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.
接着这个玩家醒来了，从它母亲身体温暖昏暗的世界中，进入了这个长梦。

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.
这个玩家是一个崭新的故事，由脱氧核糖核酸的密码子写成，从未被讲述。这个玩家是一段崭新的代码，由一个十亿年久的源码生成，从未被运行。这个玩家是一个崭新的人类，唯由乳汁与爱哺成，从未被赋生。

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.
你就是这个玩家，这个故事，这段代码，这个人类，唯由乳汁与爱哺成。

Let's go further back.
让我们更久远一些。

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...
远于这场游戏开始之前，组成玩家身体的七十亿亿个原子就在一个恒星的腹部被创造了。所以这个玩家，也是来自一个恒星的信息，这个玩家在一场故事中贯穿，这故事是一个叫朱利安的人种下的信息森林，种在了一个叫马库斯的人创建的平坦而无限的世界里，这世界存在于一个这玩家建立的小小私人世界中，栖息着这世界的宇宙又是由……

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".
嘘。有时这个玩家创建的小小私人世界是柔软、温暖而朴素的，有时又是严酷、寒冷而复杂的。有时它在自己的大脑中建立了宇宙的模型；能量的斑点，在广阔空虚的太空中穿梭。有时它称呼那些斑点“电子”和“质子”。

Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".
有时它称呼它们“行星”和“恒星”。

Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.
有时它相信它所在的宇宙是由关和开，零和一，和一行行的代码所组成的能量构成的。有时它相信它在玩一个游戏。有时它相信它正在阅读屏幕上的文字。

You are the player, reading words...
你就是这个玩家，阅读着……

Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive
嘘……有时这个玩家阅读着屏幕上一行行的代码，然后将它们解码成文字；将文字解码成意义；将意义解码成感觉、情绪、理论、想法，接着那玩家的呼吸开始加快、加深，它意识到它是活着的，它是活着的！那些上千次的死亡都不是真的，这个玩家是活着的

You. You. You are alive.
没错，就是你。你是活着的！

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees
有时这个玩家还觉得宇宙已经通过夏树摇叶所透繁光和它交谈了

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again
有时这个玩家还觉得宇宙已经通过冬夜薄辰所落余辉与它交谈了，其中这玩家眼角的一缕光线可能来自于一颗比太阳还重一百万倍的恒星，它正将它的行星沸腾成等离子体，只为了在一瞬间被这个玩家所看见，它正在宇宙遥远的远侧走向家中，突然嗅到食物的清香，几乎在一扇相似的门前，准备重新进入梦中

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream
有时这个玩家还觉得宇宙已经通过零和一，通过这世界的电网，通过在一场梦的结束处屏幕上滚动的文字与它交谈了

and the universe said I love you
宇宙说我爱你

and the universe said you have played the game well
宇宙说你游戏玩得很不错

and the universe said everything you need is within you
宇宙说所有你需求的一切都与你同在

and the universe said you are stronger than you know
宇宙说你其实比你自己所知的更强大

and the universe said you are the daylight
宇宙说你就是日光

and the universe said you are the night
宇宙说你就是月夜

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
宇宙说你所斗争的黑暗还在你身边

and the universe said the light you seek is within you
宇宙说你所追求的光明就在你身边

and the universe said you are not alone
宇宙说你不是孤单的

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing
宇宙说你并未与万物分离

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
宇宙说你本身就是宇宙自身，品味着自己，交谈着自己，读取着自己的代码

and the universe said I love you because you are love.
宇宙说我爱你是因为你本来就是爱。

And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.
游戏结束了，玩家从梦中醒来。这个玩家又开始了一场新梦。这个玩家再次做起了梦，更好地梦。这个玩家就是宇宙。这个玩家就是爱。

You are the player.
你就是这个玩家。

Wake up.
醒来吧。