Touch Me
抚摸我——墓碑的自白
Touch me. Don't be afraid. I can't hurt you. Go ahead and touch my smooth surface. Feel the cold, glass-like smoothness and the crevices and lines that make me what I am. Use both hands if you wish. We are more similar than you dare to believe.
抚摸我吧。别害怕。我不会伤害你,来吧,抚摸我光滑的皮肤。感觉玻璃般的冰冷与光滑,以及其中的裂缝和刮痕,感受我的存在。如果你愿意,请用双手抚摸吧。我们的相似之处将超越你的想象。
Touch my face. Yes, I have a face like yours. It has weathered the centuries as yours has the years. My face portrays my evolution. Yours, the birth and death of a generation. My face has aged like yours as we have endured together the testimony of earth elements.
抚摸我的脸。没错,我有着和你一样的面孔。我的脸随着时代的变迁而风化,如同你的脸随着岁月的流逝而逐渐苍老。我的脸展示了我的世纪进程。你的,则描绘了一生的沧桑曲折。当我们一起忍受了尘世中风雨的考验时,脸上也被刻下了岁月的痕迹!
I have eyes like yours. My inscriptions stare out at you as I search for the meaning of why we are here. I look into your eyes and see who you are. Who am I? I was formed millions of years past and now you see the results of my evolution.
我有着和你一样的眼睛。我的碑铭注视着你,仿佛在寻找生命的意义。让我透过你的双眼看看你是谁。而我又是谁?我已生存了数百年,你看到的是我最终的演变。
I can feel your hands and the sweat from your palms flow into the countless combination of the letters that make me. I know you. I have known you since I was able to breathe in the air as my smoothness began to take shape and my color matured along with natural flaws. You have known me since the days when you came to take me from my mother.
我可以感觉到你的双手,汗水从手掌流入数不清的碑文的缝隙。我认得你。从我可以呼吸,从我开始成型,从我的色彩在风的侵袭下而越变浓烈时,我就认识你。你也早已认识我,当你带我离开母亲时。