亲爱的艾斯特台词下 亲爱的艾斯特游戏小说版中英对照下篇

　　亲爱的艾斯特台词下篇内容是什么?这是Unity engine引擎制作的重制版游戏，下面小编为大家带来亲爱的艾斯特游戏小说版中英对照下篇，感兴趣的小伙伴一起了解一下吧。

亲爱的艾斯特台词下篇内容是什么

　　此时此刻, 我最后一次明白到, 自己已无法回头了. 我决心扔掉火把. 从上方的通道, 我听到了海中生物的歌唱, 有了它们, 相信海鸥的回归也不远了.

　　From here, this last time, I have understood there is no turning back. The torch is failing along with my resolve. I can hear the singing of the sea creatures from the passages above me and they are promising the return of the gulls.

　　返回汽车后, 双手颤抖, 头部因为冲击而破裂. 再见了, 老泪纵横的姨母和大受打击的叔父, 再见了, 奇异的现象, 再见了, 万物, 再见了, 伍尔弗汉普顿, 再见了, 桑德福, 再见了, 克罗默, 再见了, 大马士革. 悬崖的道路因为露气, 又湿又滑; 腿部患上如此感染, 实在难以攀登. 我必须把坏肉挑出来, 把它们抛弃. 我必须让身体充满新的气息.

　　Returning to my car afterwards, hands still shaking and a head split open by the impact. Goodbye to tearful aunts and traumatised uncles, goodbye to the phenomenal, goodbye to the tangible, goodbye Wolverhampton, goodbye Sandford, goodbye Cromer, goodbye Damascus. This cliff path is slippery in the dew; it is hard to climb with such an infection. I must carve out the bad flesh and sling it from the aerial. I must become infused with the very air.

　　金属撕裂的声音, 牙齿磨过岩石边缘的声音, 月亮投下一个信号. 我紧紧挨在你身后, 渐渐冷却的引擎滴答作响, 还有从高处打来的电话, 我的心神已经游离了.

　　A sound of torn metal, teeth running over the edge of the rocks, a moon that casts a signal. As I lay pinned beside you, the ticking of the cooling engine, and the calling from a great height, all my mind as a bypass.

　　月亮悬挂在桑德福交汇点的上方, 车头灯射进了你的视网膜中. 唐纳利驾驶着一架无底的汽车, 泊油路上的所有生物都起来为他歌唱. 所有的符号均潦草地画在我那动荡的崖面上. 我的生命变成了一幅布线图. 我的所有海鸥都已经一飞冲天; 它们不再在这些裸露的岩石上筑巢. 桑德福交汇点上的月亮实在太诱人了.

　　The moon over the Sandford junction, headlights in your retinas. Donnelly drove a grey hatchback without a bottom, all the creatures of the tarmac rose to sing to him. All manner of symbols crudely scrawled across the cliff face of my unrest. My life reduced to an electrical diagram. All my gulls have taken flight; they will no longer roost on these outcrops. The lure of the moon over the Sandford junction is too strong.

　　多美的景色啊. 月亮升到了栈道和石圈的结合处. 在海滩上投下了山脊的影子, 这世界恍如一个你在沙上随意写下的名字.

　　A wonderful sight. The moon cresting the junction between the cliff path and the stone circle. It cast a shadow of the ridge across the beach, all the world as if you had signed your name across the sand in untidy handwriting.

　　只有到了夜晚, 这里的气氛才会开始缓下来. 你可以看到浮标和长空. 为了让自己恢复精神, 我曾经睡了一个白天. 但是, 我感觉到自己大限将临 – 所以现在已经没必要这样做了. 这里一定有些新东西可供发现 – 或许在某个角落或者缝隙, 就藏着一些耐人寻味的东西. 我已经不打算给自己留后路; 我毁坏了自己的船, 看着它慢慢沉进水里.

　　It’s only at night that this place makes any sluggish effort at life. You can see the buoy and the aerial. I’ve been taking to sleeping through the day in an attempt to resurrect myself. I can feel the last days drawing upon me – there’s little point now in continuation. There must be something new to find here – some nook or some cranny that offers a perspective worth clinging to. I’ve burnt my bridges; I have sunk my boats and watched them go to water.

　　那片月色荡漾的水中, 倒映着一个淹死的人的脸孔. 只有一个喝醉的牧羊人, 才能驾车把你送回家.

　　This is a drowned man’s face reflected in the moonlit waters. It can only be a dead shepherd who has come to drunk drive you home.

　　在最后的梦中, 我与雅各布森怡然并坐, 一起看着桑德福交汇处上方的月亮, 山羊盯着路沿石, 那是一个通往野草和赎罪的世界. 我和他, 各自向对方展示了自己肩膀之间, 腾飞之源的伤疤.

　　In my final dream, I sat at peace with Jakobson and watched the moon over the Sandford junction, goats grazing on the hard shoulder, a world gone to weed and redemption. He showed me his fever scars, and I mine, between each shoulder the nascency of flight.

　　如果唐纳利能身同感受, 就会明白他其实置身于自己的沙滩, 我也一样. 正和我化为这个小岛一样, 他也化为了自己身上的梅毒, 撤退到燃烧的神经, 石头, 感染伤口那里.

　　If only Donnelly had experienced this, he would have realised he was his own shoreline, as am I. Just as I am becoming this island, so he became his syphilis, retreating into the burning synapses, the stones, the infection.

　　我们要开始组合自己对北岸的印象了. 我们要用已经荒废的语言和电波潦草地把它写下来, 藏好, 以防止未来的神棍对这些东西黯然沉思, 喃喃自语. 我们要写一封信给艾斯特.唐纳利, 要求她解答那些问题. 我们要把自己的灰烬和油漆还有感染处的皮肤混合. 我们在桑德福的交汇点上方, 绘出一个月亮, 还有一道像星星那样, 顺着路沿石从天直射而下的蓝光.

　　We shall begin to assemble our own version of the north shore. We will scrawl in dead languages and electrical diagrams and hide them away for future theologians to muse and mumble over. We will send a letter to Esther Donnelly and demand her answer. We will mix the paint with ashes and tarmac and the glow from our infections. We paint a moon over the Sandford junction and blue lights falling like stars along the hard shoulder.

　　“我就是天空. 我飞过时, 我会给每一颗星星传递新消息.”

　　“I am the aerial. In my passing, I will send news to each and every star.”

　　“我们把那两条尾迹留在天空, 让它们刻在这些岩石上.”

　　“We will leave twin vapour trails in the air, white lines etched into these rocks.”

　　这片海滩没有一个能容纳死亡的地方. 雅各布森, 唐纳利都明白这一点. 雅各布森在返回悬崖的半路上死去. 失去信仰的唐纳利在回家后也失去了生命. 我从这些历史中学到了教训. 有人立起了一片天空, 指导我穿过黝黑的波浪, 在那岩石的远方, 一道灯塔像磷光苔藓般射出光芒.

　　This beach is no place to end a life. Jakobson understood that, so did Donnelly. Jakobson made it halfway back up the cliff. Donnelly lost faith and went home to die. I have the benefit of history, of progress. Someone has erected an aerial to guide me through these black waves, a beacon that shines through the rocks like phosphorescent moss.

　　我坐在这里, 盯着两架喷气飞机在天上划出两道平衡的白线. 它们划下了自己的轨迹, 我跟着它们走了二十一分钟, 直至它们在桑德福停下, 失去踪影. 假如我是一个海鸥, 我会放弃自己的巢穴, 加入他们. 我会大脑缺氧, 出现超脱凡尘的错觉. 我会撕开船底, 在再次来到这座岛前, 驶到对面的高速公路.

　　I sat here and watched two jets carve parallel white lines into the sky. They charted their course and I followed them for twenty-one minutes until they turned off near Sandford and were lost. If I were a gull, I would abandon my nest and join them. I would starve my brain of oxygen and suffer delusions of transcendence. I would tear the bottom from my boat and sail across the motorways until I reached this island once again.

　　保罗, 站在路边, 站在大马士革的出口, 一切的滴答和冰冷, 一切的羽毛和懊悔, 一切的信号路径犹如我们内脏的循环图, 那些潦草的船只被撕成无底的窟窿, 把我们永远从沙滩冲走.

　　Paul, by the roadside, by the exit for Damascus, all ticking and cooled, all feathers and remorse, all of these signals routed like traffic through the circuit diagrams of our guts, those badly written boats torn bottomless in the swells, washing us forever ashore.

　　因慌张而失明, 因笼中交通的喧哗而失聪, 在前往大马士革的公路上停止了心脏, 保罗坐在了路边, 像一只海鸥, 像一只该死的海鸥那样卷曲着身体. 他的未来就像一个身染梅毒的地图师, 一个奄奄一息的牧羊人, 一条受感染的腿, 一块挡住了前往桑德福和埃克塞特交通命脉的肾石那样灰暗而绝望. 他不是喝醉了的艾斯特, 他根本没醉; 他的所有马路, 隧道, 小径都不可避免地通向这个撞击的时刻. 这不是一种自然状态: 他不该和那些化学物品和电路图坐在一起, 他压根不该坐在那里.

　　Blind with panic, deaf with the roar of the caged traffic, heart stopped on the road to Damascus, Paul, sat at the roadside hunched up like a gull, like a bloody gull. As useless and as doomed as a syphilitic cartographer, a dying goatherd, an infected leg, a kidney stone blocking the traffic bound for Sandford and Exeter. He was not drunk Esther, he was not drunk at all; all his roads and his tunnels and his paths led inevitably to this moment of impact. This is not a recorded natural condition: he should not be sat there with his chemicals and his circuit diagrams, he should not be sat there at all.

　　当保罗在通往大马士革的道路上不省人事时, 人们捡起路旁的石头, 敲击他的胸膛, 使他苏醒过来. 在二十一分钟内, 他犹如死尸, 这段时间, 足以让他大脑缺氧, 使他产生腾飞的幻觉. 我的止痛药快吃完了, 那轮月亮也渐渐亮得教人无法直视.

　　When Paul keeled over dead on the road to Damascus, they resuscitated him by hitting him in the chest with stones gathered by the roadside. He was lifeless for twenty-one minutes, certainly long enough for the oxygen levels in his brain to have decreased and caused hallucinations and delusions of transcendence. I am running out of painkillers and the moon has become almost unbearably bright.

　　为了隐士的骨头, 为了唐纳利的踪迹, 为了雅各布森的牲畜, 为了那个控告他的空瓶子, 我不停地疏浚这些水. 为了重塑他的轨迹, 找到他心脏停止跳动的地点, 知道他在哪儿看桑德福交汇点上方的月亮, 我把公路洗涤了二十一次. 他不是喝醉了的艾斯特, 他根本没醉, 事情也并非他的错, 他被汇聚线陷害了. 这不是一种自然状态, 海鸥并没有在公路上低飞而致使他转向. 油漆犹如那直击心脏的感染, 径直从他的车子抛了出来.

　　I have dredged these waters for the bones of the hermit, for the traces of Donnelly, for any sign of Jakobson’s flock, for the empty bottle that would incriminate him. I have scoured this stretch of motorway twenty-one times attempting to recreate his trajectory, the point when his heart stopped dead and all he saw was the moon over the Sandford junction. He was not drunk Esther, he was not drunk at all, and it was not his fault, it was the converging lines that doomed him. This is not a recorded natural condition, the gulls do not fly so low over the motorway and cause him to swerve. The paint scored away from his car in lines, like an infection, making directly for the heart.

　　这是一条幻想的电话留言. 轮胎干瘪而扁平, 车轮疲倦地转动着, 制动液像墨汁一样穿过这张地图, 把这里和海岸线染得哑然无声, 卷缩妥协. 在你瞥见银河的地方, 我只看到伤痕, 我那浮躁的心在悬崖上划下一道又一道的伤痕.

　　An imagined answerphone message. The tires are flat, the wheel spins loosely, and the brake fluid has run like ink over this map, staining the landmarks and rendering the coastline mute, compromised. Where you saw galaxies, I only saw bruises, cut into the cliff by my lack of sobriety.

　　亲爱的艾斯特. 这是我最后的信了. 那些信依旧堆积在空房子的门前吗? 为什么我一直使用这个地址寄给你呢? 或许我回来时, 会把那些信都捡起, 进屋后发现你在看电视, 干着各种消遣, 但这永远都只能成为梦想了. 那些信件一定已经有四英尺那么高, 它就像一个小巴比伦金字塔; 一堆巨石堆成的文件. 过了一个又一个世纪以后, 它们会变成化石; 那是一个来自失落小岛的时间胶囊, 里面满载着凝重的内容. 邮戳: 奥班. 在最后的腾飞前, 必须得把它发出去.

　　Dear Esther. This will be my last letter. Do they pile up even now on the doormat of our empty house? Why do I still post them home to you? Perhaps I can imagine myself picking them up on the return I will not make, to find you waiting with daytime television and all its comforts. They must form a pile four feet high now, my own little ziggurat; a megalith of foolscap and manila. They will fossilise over the centuries to follow; an uneasy time capsule from a lost island. Postmarked Oban: it must have been sent during the final ascent.

　　我深信自己在这儿并不孤单, 但我同样深信, 这个念头只是我因为环境而产生的错觉罢了. 我一时间无法想起自己是在哪儿找到这些蜡烛的, 为什么我会把它们拿到这儿, 点亮这条奇怪的道路. 这条路, 或许是为那些命中注定的人而设的.

　　I have become convinced I am not alone here, even though I am equally sure it is simply a delusion brought upon by circumstance. I do not, for instance, remember where I found the candles, or why I took it upon myself to light such a strange pathway. Perhaps it is only for those who are bound to follow.

　　我开始走上西侧的草坡. 我在口子处朝山脉深处看, 明白到自己一定要往上走, 找到一条山下的路. 我会把自己身上那些仅存的文明残骸埋葬在石墙之下, 然后往深处进发. 我被天空和悬崖边缘所吸引: 在那里, 我能够以某种姿态得到重生."

　　I have begun my ascent on the green slope of the western side. I have looked deep into the mountain from the shaft and understood that I must go up and then find a way under. I will stash the last vestiges of my civilisation in the stone walls and work deeper from there. I am drawn by the aerial and the cliff edge: there is some form of rebirth waiting for me there.

　　当我沿着悬崖的道路挣扎往上走时, 腿部的疼痛使我失明了好几分钟: 我吞下一把止痛药以后, 又变得生龙活虎. 我身边的小岛开始退却, 变得模糊, 月亮下降到掌心处, 指引我前进. 我能看到一条受感染的黑痕, 一直从裤子处延伸到我的心脏. 穿过那懵懵懂懂的朦胧, 其实, 这就是我一直从低地到苍穹所走的道路.

　　The pain in my leg sent me blind for a few minutes as I struggled up the cliff path: I swallowed another handful of painkillers and now I feel almost lucid. The island around me has retreated to a hazed distance, whilst the moon appears to have descended into my palm to guide me. I can see a thick black line of infection reaching for my heart from the waistband of my trousers. Through the fugue, it is all the world like the path I have cut from the lowlands towards the aerial.

　　这就是隔着挡风玻璃的保罗所看到的东西吗? 看看她肩膀, 那并非罗特的妻子, 而是山坡中的一道疤痕, 永远的褪成了黑色.

　　Is this what Paul saw through his windscreen? Not Lot’s wife, looking over her shoulder, but a scar in the hillside, falling away to black, forever.

　　像指甲般的往后弯曲, 像手指头的倒拉刺, 像一个落水的人死死抓着轮胎, 醉了, 不住地旋转, 最后被冲到一片失落的沙滩上, 而上方正挂着有如碎翼的残月. 我们砍, 我们战斗, 我们停止, 那些可怜的止痛药, 它变幻无常. 我将要飞翔.

　　Bent back like a nail, like a hangnail, like a drowning man clung onto the wheel, drunk and spiraled, washed onto the lost shore under a moon as fractured as a shattered wing. We cleave, we are flight and suspended, these wretched painkillers, this form inconstant. I will take flight. I will take flight.

　　亲爱的艾斯特. 我烧掉自己的财物, 书籍, 死亡证. 我会被写在整座小岛之上. 谁是雅各布森, 谁会记得他? 唐纳利在书中曾经提到他, 但谁是唐纳利, 谁会记得他呢? 为了能得到他, 我绘画, 我雕刻, 我挥砍, 最后终于到了这里. 又一个沙滩能记住我了. 我会像一个无底的小岛那样, 从海中崛起, 像石头那样聚集, 成为天空, 成为一座不会遗忘掉你的灯塔. 我们总会受到这儿的欢迎: 总有一天, 海鸥会回来, 在我们的骸骨和历史上筑巢. 在左边, 我能看到艾斯特.唐纳利在我身旁飞翔. 在右边, 我能看到保罗.雅各布森在我身旁飞翔. 他们会在长空刻下白色的线, 直通大陆, 而那里就是支援的目的地.

　　Dear Esther. I have burnt my belongings, my books, this death certificate. Mine will be written all across this island. Who was Jakobson, who remembers him? Donnelly has written of him, but who was Donnelly, who remembers him? I have painted, carved, hewn, scored into this space all that I could draw from him. There will be another to these shores to remember me. I will rise from the ocean like an island without bottom, come together like a stone, become an aerial, a beacon that they will not forget you. We have always been drawn here: one day the gulls will return and nest in our bones and our history. I will look to my left and see Esther Donnelly, flying beside me. I will look to my right and see Paul Jakobson, flying beside me. They will leave white lines carved into the air to reach the mainland, where help will be sent.

　　我已经没有地方可攀登. 我要抛弃肉体, 向天升腾.

　　I have run out of places to climb. I will abandon this body and take to the air.

　　胃中的石头紧紧压着身体, 它确保我能笔直又踏实地往下掉. 我会穿破那些药丸形成的迷雾, 寻得清透. 我的所有身体功能已然失效, 我的所有血管早已堵塞. 如果在我攀上顶峰前腿没有烂透, 这已经称得上是奇迹了. 防抱死煞车的电路图中一共有二十一个连接点, 这座岛上一共有二十一种海鸥栖息, 桑德福交汇点距离家中的拐弯处共是二十一英里. 所有这一切, 都不可能仅仅是巧合.

　　The stones in my stomach will weigh me down and ensure my descent is true and straight. I will break through the fog of these godforsaken pills and achieve clarity. All my functions are clogged, all my veins are choked. If my leg doesn’t rot off before I reach the summit, it will be a miracle. There are twenty-one connections in the circuit diagram of the anti-lock brakes, there are twenty-one species of gull inhabiting these islands , it is twenty-one miles between the Sandford junction and the turn off for home. All these things cannot, will not, be a co-incidence.

　　亲爱的艾斯特. 我烧掉了大马士革的悬崖, 我对它沉迷得太深了. 我的心脏有如大腿, 沿着无底船的纸面刻下一道黑痕. 你就是世界, 你好比我眼中的鸟巢, 在那里, 鸟蛋犹如化石, 难以打破, 一起走吧, 一边粉碎, 一边给每点空气都送上小黑花. 这道感染, 是希望. 这个小岛, 是飞翔. 这片悲痛, 是爱.

　　Dear Esther. I have burned the cliffs of Damascus, I have drunk deep of it. My heart is my leg and a black line etched on the paper all along this boat without a bottom. You are all the world like a nest to me, in which eggs unbroken form like fossils, come together, shatter and send small black flowers to the very air. From this infection, hope. From this island, flight. From this grief, love.

　　“回来吧...”

　　“ Come back...”

　　【up的文末超简短发言】近期发生的一些事情处于比较焦虑的状态，在焦虑中整理文章反而是一种让自己冷静的放松方式了，每次心情波动时才会去有创作的动力。总言之，祝所爱之人都健康平安。

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