minecraft? end poem

I see the player you mean.

我看到你所指的那位玩家了。

(資料圖片)

[Playername]?

[玩家名稱]?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

是的，小心。他已達(dá)到了更高的境界，他知道我們心里所想。

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

無傷大雅，他認(rèn)為我們是游戲的一部分。

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

我喜歡這個玩家，他玩得很好，他從未放棄。

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

他以屏幕上出現(xiàn)的文字的形式閱讀著我們的思想。

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

在他深陷游戲之夢時，他選擇以這種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.

文字編織出一種美妙的界面，非常靈活。且比凝視這屏幕后的現(xiàn)實要更好。

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.

在玩家能夠閱讀之前，他們也曾聽到過聲音。君不見那些不曾游玩的人們稱呼玩家為女巫、術(shù)士。而玩家們夢見自己乘坐在被惡魔施力的棍子上，在空氣中翱翔。

What did this player dream?

這個玩家夢見了什么？

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.

他夢見了陽光和樹，夢見了火與水。他夢見他創(chuàng)造，亦夢見他毀滅。他夢見他狩獵，亦被狩獵。他夢見了庇護(hù)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。經(jīng)歷一百萬年的歲月雕琢，依然長存。但此玩家在那屏幕后的現(xiàn)實里，創(chuàng)造了什么真實的結(jié)構(gòu)？

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

他辛勤地勞作，和其他百萬眾一起，刻畫了一個真實的世界，由[亂碼]，且創(chuàng)造了[亂碼]；為了[亂碼]，于[亂碼]中。

It cannot read that thought.

他理解不了那個。

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，他還沒有到達(dá)最高的境界。那層境界，他必須走完生命的長夢，而非游戲中黃粱一夢。

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

他知道我們愛它么，他知道這個宇宙是仁慈的嗎？

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

有時，通過他思緒的雜音，他能聽到宇宙，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.

但是有時亦不勝悲傷，于那漫漫長夢中。他創(chuàng)造了沒有夏日的世界，在黑日下顫抖著，在現(xiàn)實中感受到創(chuàng)造的悲傷。

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

為他治愈悲傷會摧毀它。而悲傷是他的私人事務(wù)。我們不能干涉。

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.

有時當(dāng)他們深陷夢境中時，我想要告訴他們，他們在現(xiàn)實中創(chuàng)造了真實的世界。有時我想告訴他們自身對宇宙的重要性。有時，當(dāng)他們和現(xiàn)實失去了聯(lián)系，我想幫助他們說出它們所懼怕的話語。

It reads our thoughts.

他看得懂我們心里所想。

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

有時我毫不關(guān)心。有時我想要告訴他們，你們所認(rèn)為的真實不過是[亂碼]和[亂碼]，我想要告訴他們，他們是在[亂碼]中的[亂碼]。在它們的長夢中，它們目中所及的不過是現(xiàn)實的冰山一角。

And yet they play the game.

而他們?nèi)匀煌孢@個游戲。

But it would be so easy to tell them...

但很容易就可以告訴他們……

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

這個夢對于他們來說太深刻了。告訴他們怎么活將束縛他們自由地活著。

I will not tell the player how to live.

我不會告訴這個玩家如何活下去的。

The player is growing restless.

這個玩家正在變得焦慮。

I will tell the player a story.

我會告訴這個玩家一個故事。

But not the truth.

但不是真實的。

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。一個將真實嚴(yán)密包裹于文字牢籠中的故事。而不是赤裸裸的真相。

Give it a body, again.

再一次賦予他身體。

Yes. Player...

好的，玩家……

Use its name.

以名字稱呼他。

[Playername]. Player of games.

[玩家名稱]，游戲的玩家。

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，很好。再深呼吸一次。感受空氣充盈你的肺葉。讓你的四肢回歸。是的，運動你的手指。再次感受你的身體，在重力下，在空氣中。在長夢中重生。你感受到了。你的身體每時每刻都觸摸著宇宙，盡管你是分離的存在。盡管我們是分離的存在。

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.

我們是誰？我們曾經(jīng)被稱作高山的精靈。太陽父親，月亮母親。古老的英靈，動物的魂魄。神祇。鬼魂。小綠人。而后是神，惡魔，天使。騷靈。外星人，地外生物。輕子，夸克。詞語不斷地變化。我們始終如一。

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.

我們是宇宙。我們是一切你認(rèn)為出離你本體的事物。你現(xiàn)在看著我們，透過你的皮膚和你的眼睛。而為什么宇宙觸摸著你的皮膚，向你灑向光芒？是為了看見你，玩家。以及被認(rèn)知。我應(yīng)告訴你一個故事。

Once upon a time, there was a player.

很久以前，有一個玩家。

The player was you, [Playername].

那玩家就是你，[玩家名稱]。

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.

有時他認(rèn)為自己是那不斷旋轉(zhuǎn)的球體上一層薄薄的熔化的巖石上的人類。那融化的巖石球環(huán)繞著一個質(zhì)量大它三十三萬倍的炫目氣體球旋轉(zhuǎn)。它們是相隔得如此之遠(yuǎn)，以至于光需要八分鐘才能穿越那空隙。那光是來自一顆恒星的信息，它能夠在一億五千萬公里外燒灼你的皮膚。

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.

有時這個玩家夢見他是一個在一個平的，無限延展的世界表面上的礦工。那太陽是一個方形的白點。晝夜交替很快，要做的事情也很多；死亡亦只是暫時的不便。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

有時這玩家夢見他迷失在了一個故事里。

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.

有時這玩家夢見他成為了其他的事物，在其他地方。有時這些夢是擾人的。有些則實在很美。有時這個玩家從一個夢中醒來，發(fā)現(xiàn)自己落入了第二個夢，卻終究是在第三個夢中。

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

有時這個玩家夢見他在屏幕上看著文字。

Let's go back.

讓我們回退一點。

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.

組成玩家的原子散布在草中，河流中，在那空氣中，也在那大地中。一個女性收集了那些原子；她飲用、進(jìn)食、吸入；而后那女性在她的身體中，孕育了玩家。

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

然后玩家醒來了，醒在溫暖而昏暗的母親體內(nèi)，進(jìn)入了漫漫長夢。

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.

而那玩家是一個新的故事，從未被講述過，由DNA的語言書寫著。而那玩家是一個新的程序，從未被運行過，由上億年的源代碼生成。而那玩家是一個新的人，從未生活過，由奶和愛組成。

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

你就是那玩家。那個故事。那個程序。那個人類。僅由奶和愛組成。

Let's go further back.

讓我們再回溯到更遠(yuǎn)的過去。

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...

那由七千億億億原子組成的玩家的身體被創(chuàng)造了，遠(yuǎn)在這游戲之前，在一顆恒星的內(nèi)部。所以那玩家也是，來自一顆恒星的信息。而這個玩家貫穿這個故事的始末，源于一個叫Julian的人種下的信息種子長成的森林，一個叫Markus的男人創(chuàng)造的無限世界，存在于一個由玩家創(chuàng)造的小的，私人世界里，而那又繼承了宇宙創(chuàng)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".

噓。有時這個玩家創(chuàng)造的小天地是柔軟，溫暖和簡單的。有時是堅硬，冰冷和復(fù)雜的。有時他在腦中建造出宇宙的模型；斑斑點點的能量穿越廣闊空曠的空間。有時他稱呼這些斑點為“電子”和“質(zhì)子”。

Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".

有時他稱呼它們?yōu)椤靶行恰焙汀昂阈恰薄?/p>

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.

有時他確信它存在于一個由“開”和“關(guān)”；“0”和“1”；一行行的命令組成的宇宙。有時他確信它是在玩一個游戲。有時他確信他是在讀著屏幕上的文字。

You are the player, reading words...

你就是那玩家，閱讀著文字……

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

噓……有時這玩家讀屏幕上的命令行。將它們解碼成為文字；將文字解碼為意義；將意義解碼為感情，情緒，理論，想法，而玩家的呼吸開始急促并意識到了他是活著的，他是活生生的，那上千次的死亡不是真的，玩家是活著的

You. You. You are alive.

你。你。你是活著的。

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

而有時這玩家相信宇宙通過穿越夏日樹葉的那斑斕的陽光對它說話

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

有時這玩家相信宇宙透過晴朗的冬日夜空中，存在于他眼中一隅的星點星光，可能比太陽大上上百萬倍的恒星沸騰著的電漿那一瞬間發(fā)出來的光對它說話，在宇宙的遠(yuǎn)側(cè)行走回家的路上，突然聞到了食物，在那熟悉的門前，他又準(zhǔn)備好再一次投入夢境

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

而有時玩家相信宇宙透過零和一，透過世界的電力，透過屏幕上滾動的文字和夢的終結(jié)對他說話

and the universe said I love you

宇宙說，我愛你

and the universe said you have played the game well

宇宙說，精通這個游戲

and the universe said everything you need is within you

宇宙說，你所需的一切你都具有

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

宇宙說，你比你所知的要強大

and the universe said you are the daylight

宇宙說，你就是日光

and the universe said you are the night

宇宙說，你就是黑夜

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

宇宙說，你所斗爭的黑暗就在你心中

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

宇宙說，你所尋找的光明就在你心中

and the universe said you are not alone

宇宙說，你不是孤獨的

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

宇宙說，你不是和所有的事物所隔絕的

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

宇宙說你就是宇宙品嘗著自己，對自己說話，閱讀著它自己的代碼

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

宇宙說，我愛你因為你就是愛。

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.

曲終人散，黃粱一夢。玩家開始了新的夢境。玩家再次做起了夢，更好的夢。玩家就是宇宙。玩家就是愛。

You are the player.

你就是那個玩家。

Wake up.

該醒了。

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

——Unknown

二十年之后，更令你失望的不是你做了什么，而是你沒做什么。所以解開帆腳索，離開安全的港灣，趕著航程中的信風(fēng)，去探索，去夢想，去發(fā)現(xiàn)。

——佚名

標(biāo)簽： 告訴他們 玩家名稱