俗称终末之诗背景音乐：

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可以搭配下面的文字使用

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内容

I see the player you mean.

我看到你所说的那位玩家了。

Steve?

Steve？
Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.
是的，小心。他现在已达到了更高的境界。他能阅读我们的思想。

That doesn’t matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

无伤大雅。他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，他玩得很好，他没有半途而废。

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

他以屏幕上出现的文字的形式阅读着我们的思想。

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

当他深陷游戏的梦境时，他总以这种方式想象出形形色色的事物。

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

文字创造出了一种美妙的界面。非常灵活。而且比起凝视屏幕后的现实来说，不会让人那么恐惧。

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.

在玩家能够阅读之前，他们也曾经听到过声音。那些不曾游玩的人们称呼玩家为女巫、术士。玩家们梦见他们自己乘坐在被恶魔施法的棍子上，在天空中翱翔。

What did this player dream?

这个玩家梦见了什么？

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.

他梦见了阳光与树木。梦见了火与水。他梦见他创造。亦梦见他毁灭。他梦见他在狩猎，亦梦见被狩猎。他梦见了庇护所。

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，那原始的界面。经历百万年的岁月，它依然在运行。但这个玩家在屏幕后的真实里，到底创造了什么真实的构造？

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the g827wjsnxo, and created a g827wjsnxo for g827wjsnxo, in the g827wjsnxo.

他辛勤地劳作，与其他数百万玩家一起，在[乱码]的折叠中创造了一个真实的世界，并在[乱码]
中为[乱码]创造了一个[乱码]。

It can not read that thought.

他读不出那个思绪。

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.

不。他还没有达到那最高的境界。为了达到那层境界，他必须完成生命的长梦，而非游戏中的黄粱一梦。

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

他知道我们爱他吗？他知道这个宇宙是仁慈的吗？

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

有时，在思绪的杂音中，他听到了宇宙。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.

但是在许多时候他陷入悲伤，在那漫漫长梦中。他创造了没有夏日的世界，他在黑日下颤抖着，将自己悲伤的创造视为现实世界。

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We can not interfere.

试图治愈他的悲伤会毁掉他。解决悲伤是他的个人事务。我们不能干涉。

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.

有时当他们深陷梦境中时，我想要告诉他们，他们在现实中创造了真实的世界。有时我想告诉他们他们对宇宙的重要性。有时，当他们短时间内失去了与宇宙真正的联系，我想帮助他们说出他们所恐惧的话语。

It reads our thoughts.

他读出了我们的思想。

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely 5krod9e9fdc and 5krod9e9fdc, I wish to tell them that they are 5krod9e9fdc in the 5krod9e9fdc. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

有时我毫不在意。有时我想要去告诉他们，这个被你们当做真实的世界仅仅是[乱码]和[乱码]
，我想要去告诉他们，他们是[乱码]中的[乱码]
。他们在长梦中，所见到的真实太少了。

And yet they play the game.

而他们仍然在玩这个游戏。

But it would be so easy to tell them…

但实际上很容易就可以告诉他们……

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

这个梦对他来说太强烈了。告诉他们如何活着就是阻碍他们活下去。

I will not tell the player how to live.

我不会告诉这个玩家如何生活的。

The player is growing restless.

这个玩家正在变得焦虑。

I will tell the player a story.

我会告诉这个玩家一个故事。

But not the truth.

但不是真相。

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.

不是。是在文字牢笼中严密包裹着的真相。而不是赤裸裸的真相。

Give it a body, again.

再一次赋予他身体。

Yes. Player…

是的，玩家……

Use its name.

称呼他的名字。

Steve
. Player of games.

Steve
，游戏的玩家。

Good.

很好。

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.

深呼吸，再深呼吸一次。感受空气充盈你的肺叶。让你的四肢回归。运动你的手指。再次感受你的身体，在重力下，在空气中。在长梦中重生。你感受到了。你的身体再一次触碰着宇宙的每一处，仿佛你是一群独立的个体。仿佛我们是一群独立的个体。

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？我们一度被称为山之精魂。太阳父亲，月亮母亲。古老的英灵，动物的魂魄。神祗。鬼魂。小绿人。而后是神，恶魔，天使。喧闹鬼。外星人，地外生物。轻粒子，夸克。词语不断地变化。我们始终如一。

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.

我们是宇宙。我们是一切你认为的除你之外的事物。现在你正在看着我们，用你的眼睛与肌肤。而为什么宇宙触摸你的皮肤，向你投出一片光芒？为了看到你，玩家。为了彼此了解。我要告诉你一个故事。

Once upon a time, there was a player.

很久以前，有一个玩家。

The player was you, Steve
.

那玩家就是你，Steve
。

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.

有时他认为自己是一个人类，在那融化岩石构成的旋转球体的一层薄薄的表皮上。那融化岩石的球体环绕着一个质量大它三十三万倍的炫目气体球旋转。它们是相隔得如此之远，以至于光需要八分钟才能穿越那空隙。那光是来自一颗恒星的信息，而它能够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.

有时这个玩家梦见他是一个矿工，在一个并不平坦的、无限延展的世界的地表上。太阳是一个白色的方块。昼夜交替很快；要做的事情也很多；死亡也只是暂时的不便。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

有时，这玩家梦见它迷失在了一个故事里。

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，这玩家梦见它成为了其它的事物，在其它地方。有时这些梦是令人不安的。有时却是美丽的。这个玩家从一个梦中醒来，又落入了第二个梦，又从这个梦中落入到了第三个梦中。

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

有时这个玩家梦见他在屏幕上看着文字。

Let’s go back.

让我们回退一点。

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.

组成玩家的原子散布在草中，河流中，在空气中，在大地中。一个女人收集了那些原子；她饮用、进食、吸入；而后那女人在她的身体中，孕育了玩家。

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother’s body, into the long dream.

然后那玩家醒来了，从他的母亲体内那个温暖、昏暗的世界中，进入了漫漫长梦。

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.

那玩家是一个新的故事，从未被讲述过，由DNA的语言书写着。那玩家是一个新的程序，从未被运行过，由上亿年前的源代码生成。那玩家是一个新的人类，从未存在过，由乳汁和爱组成。

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

你就是那玩家。那个故事。那个程序。那个人类。仅仅是由乳汁和爱组成。

Let’s go further back.

我们再往更远的过去回退一点。

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…

那由七千亿亿亿的原子组成的玩家的身体被创造了，远在这游戏之前，在一颗恒星的内部。所以那玩家也是，来自一颗恒星的信息。而这个玩家贯穿这个故事的始末，这故事源于一个叫朱利安(Julian)的人种下的信息种子长成的森林，源于一个叫马库斯（Markus）的人创造的无限世界，存在于一个由玩家创造的小的，私密的世界里，而那又继承了宇宙所创造的……

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。有时这个玩家创造的属于自己的小天地是柔软、温暖和简单的。有时是坚硬、冰冷和复杂的。有时他建造出了他脑中的宇宙的模型；斑斑点点的能量穿越广阔空旷的空间。有时他称呼这些斑点为“电子”和“质子”。

Sometimes it called them “planets” and “stars”.

有时他称呼他们为“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.

有时他确信他存在于一个由“开”和“关”；“0”和“1”组成的世界；存在于一个由一行行的代码组成的宇宙。有时他确信他是在玩一个游戏。有时他确信他是在读着屏幕上的文字。

You are the player, reading words…

你就是那玩家，阅读着文字……

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……有时这玩家读屏幕上的一行行代码。将它们解读为文字；将文字解读为含义；将含义解读为感受、情绪、理论、想法，而玩家开始急促而剧烈地呼吸，并意识到了他是活着的，那上千次的死亡不是真的，玩家是活着的。

You. You. You are alive.

你，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.

而有时这位玩家相信宇宙通过夏日树叶下洒下的斑斓的阳光与他对话。

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.

有时这玩家相信宇宙透过晴朗的冬日夜空中，存在于他眼中一隅星光，可能比太阳大上上百万倍的恒星沸腾着的电浆那一瞬间发出来的光对他说话，在从宇宙尽头归来的路上，突然闻到了食物的香气，在那熟悉的门前，他又准备好再一次投入梦境。

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.

而有时玩家相信宇宙透过“0”和“1”，透过世界的电力，透过屏幕上滚动的文字和梦的尽头对他说话。

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：你玩得很好。

and the universe said everything you need is within you.

宇宙说：一切你所需要的你都具有。

and the universe said you are stronger than you know.

宇宙说：你比你所估计的更强大。

and the universe said you are the daylight.

宇宙说：你就是阳光。

and the universe said you are the night.

宇宙说：你就是黑夜。

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you.

宇宙说：你所抗争的黑暗就在你心中。

and the universe said the light you seek is within you.

宇宙说：你所追寻的光明就在你心中。

and the universe said you are not alone.

宇宙说：你并不是孤身一人。

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing.

宇宙说：你与其他事物是一体的。

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.

宇宙说：你就是宇宙，品味自己，与自己对话，阅读着他自己的代码。

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

宇宙说：我爱你，因为你就是爱。

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。玩家开始了新的梦境。玩家再次做起了梦，更好的梦。玩家就是宇宙。玩家就是爱。

You are the player.

你就是那个玩家。

Wake up.

该醒了。