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Man, the flower of all flesh, the noblest of all creatures visible, man who had once made god in his image,
人类，一切生物的花朵，一切可以目见的生物中的最崇高者，人类曾经以他们的形象创造了神，
and had mirrored his strength on the constellations, beautiful naked man was dying, strangled in the garments that he had woven.
而且曾把他们自己的力量反映到那些星座上，俊美的裸体人类正濒于死亡，窒息在他们自己织成的衣服里。
Century after century had he toiled, and here was his reward.
人类一个世纪又一个世纪地艰辛劳动着，而这里就是他们的报酬。
Truly the garment had seemed heavenly at first, shot with colours of culture, sewn with the threads of self-denial.
确实，在最初时那看上去尽善尽美、放射着文明异彩的衣服，乃是以自我否定的纱线织成的。
And heavenly it had been so long as man could shed it at will and live by the essence that is his soul,
而且只要它是一件衣服而不是什么别的，只要人类能够任意脱掉它，
and the essence, equally divine, that is his body.
靠着那本质即他的心灵，并靠着那同等重要的本质即他的肉体而活着，
The sin against the body – it was for that they wept in chief;
那衣服就是尽美尽善的。后来罪恶克服了肉体——他们主要是为了这而哭泣，
the centuries of wrong against the muscles and the nerves, and those five portals by which we can alone apprehend –
多少世纪错误地反对肌肉和神经，反对我们藉以能够独自理解的五官，
glozing it over with talk of evolution, until the body was white pap, the home of ideas as colourless,
而用进化的说法给它涂上一层釉光，直到身体成为白色的糊状，家的观念黯然无色，
last sloshy stirrings of a spirit that had grasped the stars.
一个曾经掌握过诸星的人最后像泥浆那样蠕动。
“Where are you?” she sobbed.
“你在那里？”她呜咽地问。
His voice in the darkness said, “Here.”
他的声音在黑暗里说道：“在这里。”
Is there any hope, Kuno?”
“有没有什么希望呢，基诺？”
“None for us.”
“对我们说来是没有的。”
“Where are you?”
“你在哪里呢？”
She crawled over the bodies of the dead. His blood spurted over her hands.
她从死者的尸体上朝着他爬去。他的血喷满她的双手。
“Quicker,” he gasped, “I am dying – but we touch, we talk, not through the Machine.”
“快一点，”他喘息着说，“我就要死了，不过，我们接触、我们谈话不是通过那大机器了。”
He kissed her.
他亲吻了她。
“We have come back to our own. We die, but we have recaptured life, as it was in Wessex, when Alfrid overthrew the Danes.
“我们已经恢复到我们的常态了。我们死，但是我们已经重新获得了生命，正像过去在威赛克斯，阿尔弗里德赶走丹麦人的时候那样。
We know what they know outside, they who dwelt in the cloud that is the colour of a pearl.”
我们知道了他们在外边所知道的一切，他们就是住在珍珠色的云端里的人。”
“But Kuno, is it true ? Are there still men on the surface of the earth ?
“基诺，但这是不是真的呢？在地球表面上仍然还有人？
Is this – tunnel, this poisoned darkness – really not the end?”
是不是这——这隧道，这种有毒的黑暗，真的还不是终局？”
He replied: “I have seen them, spoken to them, loved them.
他回答说： “我曾看到了他们，同他们说过话，我热爱他们。
They are hiding in the midst and the ferns until our civilization stops. Today they are the Homeless – tomorrow —”
他们隐藏在雾色里和蕨类植物里，直到我们的文明停止。今天他们是无家可归的人——明天——”
“Oh, tomorrow – some fool will start the Machine again, tomorrow.”
“哦，明天——有什么大傻瓜会又开动大机器，明天。”
“Never,” said Kuno, “never. Humanity has learnt its lesson.”
“永远不会的，”基诺说，“永远不会的。人类已经领受了它的教训。”
As he spoke, the whole city was broken like a honeycomb.
在他说话的时候，全城像一个蜜蜂窝那样垮了。
An air-ship had sailed in through the vomitory into a ruined wharf.
一架飞艇从入口处飞进，飞到已成废墟的码头。
It crashed downwards, exploding as it went, rending gallery after gallery with its wings of steel.
它向下坠毁时爆炸了，它的钢翼摧毁一条接一条的地下通道。
For a moment they saw the nations of the dead, and, before they joined them, scraps of the untainted sky.
有一会儿，他们看见了那些死者的国家，在他们还没有加入到死者行列中去之前，他们曾看见一片片纤尘不染的青天。
