No people are uninteresting.没有一个灵魂是无趣的。
Their fate is like the chronicle of planets.他们的命运如同星辰的史诗。

Nothing in them in not particular, 在他们中间，充满了造物的奇妙
and planet is dissimilar from planet.就好似行星与行星之间的差异

And if a man lived in obscurity 即使一个人的生命被无为所蒙蔽

making his friends in that obscurity使得他邻舍也埋藏在无为中
obscurity is not uninteresting.渺小的生命也布满了奇异

To each his world is private每个人的世界都是隐秘的
and in that world one excellent minute.在那些世界中，有片刻的欢愉
And in that world one tragic minute在那些世界中，也有片刻的悲哀
These are private.这些都是隐秘的

In any man who dies there dies with him如果他们死去，那些记忆也随之消亡
his first snow and kiss and fight他们的第一场雪，第一个吻，第一场打架
it goes with him.都随着他们腐朽了

There are left books and bridges他们的书和桥梁留在了世间
and painted canvas and machinery以及帆布上的油画和机械
Whose fate is to survive.那些拒绝死亡的命运

But what has gone is also not nothing: 但那些消逝了的，并不是归于虚无
by the rule of the game something has gone.虽然按照万物的纲常是他们离开了
Not people die but worlds die in them.但是死的不是人们，而是无数的世界

Whom we knew as faulty, the earth's creatures对于世间的万物，我们知道什么呢
Of whom, essentially, what did we know? 对于世界的本质，我们又知道什么呢？

Brother of a brother? Friend of friends? 兄弟的兄弟么？朋友的朋友么？
Lover of lover?爱人的爱人么？ 

We who knew our fathers 我们如此的了解我们的父辈
in everything, in nothing.在每一个方面，我们还是一无所知

They perish. They cannot be brought back.他们离开了。永远不会回到我们之间
The secret worlds are not regenerated.他们秘密的世界消失了。

And every time again and again于是，一次又一次的
I make my lament against destruction.我叹息于我的毁灭