和 @茶蛋之盐 一起搞大事！这两天把《黄金国》翻译成英文啦~

几处备注说一下：

1. 英文版里老张没有名字，只是一个有酒窝的「旅行者」（the dimpled Traveller）

2. 鹅老板变成了天鹅老板（The Swan Master, 因为天鹅更酷），中文版中他养的一只鹅变成了一群鹅

3. 小奶包世勋的角色名叫 Ciel，法文，意思是天空（也是我个人最喜欢的名字之一_(:з」∠)_），象征空气元素

4. 泪河的译名为 Dolorosa，拉丁文中痛苦 Dolor 一词的现在进行时，泪河/Dolorosa Water 在这里也有「悲痛的河水」的意思。泪河孪生子则是 Filia Dolorosa, Dolorosa 的儿子

5. 译文中还有一些不影响情节的小改动

6. 所有的拼写语法结构都是英式英语

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El Dorado

Sal Planetarum

Translated by Sommar Cellach

El Dorado

I.

As the ancient tale goes, when the sun set behind the dunes, tinting endless desert in gold, behold, on the horizon was the city of gold, the celestial kingdom of El Dorado.

El Dorado was home to the Creator. And to everything an earthly being could desire.

The summit of the city was a volcanic lake. In the crystal clear and diamond bright water lived a titanic fish. At sundown the fish returned to the water, rest its weary head, and sung itself an ancient lullaby. The deep and low hums were woven into golden aurora by passing winds, and thrown all across the vast sky. According to the tale, the mountain and the fish each held half the soul of the Creator, which split upon the creation of the miraculous El Dorado.

Arabae was a little deity, the guardian of El Dorado. In spring he helped in the vineyard, and took shade on the bank of Dolorosa Water from the hot summer shines. He made the most of the harvest season of autumn, and cuddled himself to a long slumber away from the wintry bleak. He roamed the roads and meadows, gaily singing the Fish’s lullaby, when tired, he climbed up the fort, and watched the desert and the twilit sky. 

The embroidery on his garment marked his divine deal with the Creator: he was to guard El Dorado for eternity.

II.

One day, a Traveller arrived in El Dorado.

Covered in dust and sand, his cloak hid his weary face, only showing a pair of dark eyes. 

The long journey from the Far East had washed away his identity and name.

The residents of El Dorado welcomed him warmly, offering hospitality, especially Arabae, who was overjoyed by an outlander’s very occasional presence. Traveller politely appreciated the kindness and generosity of many and settled in Arabae’s chamber. But never once, did he promised to stay. 

Arabae tirelessly told him everything of his Kingdom, from the splendid golden capes woven by Chen the Cat, the deity who dwelled on the foreshore of Dolorosa Water; to Theo’s swan flock, herded by the Master in the meadows. The Traveller smiled upon every word. Amidst his fine, dimpled features, his dark eyes curved with joy.

The Traveller undid his hood, showing Arabae his pale face. He said, he left the distant eastern land, the land of sunrise, to search for the Utopia. 

‘What is Utopia?’ Arabae asked, holding his face and blinking his eyes.

It is a place where every dream would come true, answered the Traveller.

Arabae saw the most beautiful expression that could ever be on a human face, as it radiated by uttering this very word, Utopia.

Solemnly, Arabae promised the Traveller: in El Dorado, everything a heart desired could be found. Then he grinned at the Traveller and opened his mouth. Within that mouth there was an endless space, stretching, deep and far. With astonishment and awe, the Traveller watched the green laden land and the starry sky rotating in that little dainty cavity.

‘What did you see?’ Asked a beaming Arabae.

‘I saw the entire universe,’ the Traveller smiled.

III.

One day while roaming the streets, the Traveller encountered Theo the Swan Master.

Theo was a thoughtful and introvert young man with wide eyes. He guarded the knowledge and wisdom in the domed library, besides herding his flock of swans, thus was also known as the Swan Master. He lived on his own, took pleasure with his swans and in his books.

When the Traveller encountered the Swan Master, he was busy feeding one of his newborn cygnets. The Traveller approached and asked whether the little fella had a name.

The Swan Master stopped and gazed him with his wide eyes. 

‘You are the first person asking about naming a cygnet.’

The Traveller did not respond. Theo gave him another prolonged gaze, and returned to his business. ‘Swans are swans, a name is one too many,’ he murmured.

The Traveller was about to leave after this rather awkward encounter, the Swan Master stood up. 

‘However I am intrigued by your curiosity,’ he said, I would love to reward you with something.’

He followed the Master into the library. Pressing down the urge to sneeze, he realised the library was literally a temple, a pantheon. A spiral staircase, loaded with books, rising from the ground, winded and whirled towards the dome. Sun rays penetrated the still and dusty atmosphere, as if it was a mist of gold.

The Swan Master gently wiped the dust off a leather bound book with his sleeve, as the Traveller looked up keenly along the staircase, but struggled to see the end.

The Swan Master pointed at the dome: ‘Please walk up the staircase as far as you wish, whichever book you pick from the shelf, then all the books underneath you, as to say, all the knowledge and wisdom within them, would be my humble gift.’

The Traveller nodded and set off to the staircase.

IV.

Arabae lost the Traveller.

The Swan Master stood at the Library’s portico and told Arabae that he knew what the Traveller had been up to, but could only let him in if Arabae solved his riddle.

So the Master asked: what did the Creator love?

Arabae answered spontaneously: the Creator loved Light, without thinking twice.

The Swan Master shrugged: ‘I cannot see that wrong,’ and let Arabae into the Library.

Arabae found the Traveller lying unconscious on the stairs, yet his body points forward. Bruises, due to the fall, stained his pale skin.

He did not take any book off the shelf, in spite of the enormous height he had reached, and beneath him the amount of books are countless.

Arabae nursed him for days, gently anointed every unhealed wound with aromatic ointment.

As he undressed the Traveller, Arabae startled before his body. It was covered in countless bruises and scars, big and small, old and new. Sadly he caressed the slumbering Traveller, struggled imagine how perilous the journey had been, for the Traveller had taken to reach El Dorado.

When the Traveller woke, Arabae gazed him fondly and asked, why didn’t you stop? Theo the Swan Master was the guardian of knowledge and wisdom, there was no end of that library, and absolutely no one could reach the last step and touch the dome vaulting, no one.

The Traveller responded with a melancholic look and lowered his head.

For Arabae could never know, what Theo’s gift truly meant to an earthly being like the Traveller.

The Traveller knew so well about the sweet joy of enlightenment, even though it was tightly followed by chilling fear, when the vast unknown unfolded before him.

The fear urged him to walk higher, higher, and even higher. He never thought of stopping at any point on that spiral staircase, as he was determined to reach the highest and the furthest step.

He craved wisdom.

V.

At the beginning of time, between sky and earth the Creator stood alone. In solitude He created His lover, with the most beautiful, most sublime part of His very soul. However then His lover drifted away, no longer belonging to him, causing so much grief, that His soul split in halves - one became the hot but motionless volcano, the other became the gentle but forever roaming fish.

All the grief and sorrow of the Creator concentrated in the Dolorosa Water. At the foot of the volcano the river took form of a ring. The silent current was forever trapped in that everlasting circle. 

Whatever touched the grieving billow of Dolorosa, even stars, would sink. As the eventide fell, countless stars shimmered like tears - indeed according to the tales, it was the Creator’s silent lamentation.

Chen the Cat was a guardian on Dolorosa. Bound to the shore, he tirelessly seamed with golden aurora threads, picked from the volcano top, on his weaving wheel. He had been there forever, and his beautiful capes formed and dissembled twilights after twilights.

Arabae and the Traveller arrived Dolorosa at sundown. Under the twilit sky the water was already shimmering with starlights. Above them the titanic fish drifted across the lush canopies, singing the deep and low lullaby.

Chen rose his tail to greet them. His slanted brows and up-curving lips formed a gentle yet apologetic smile. His paws elegantly swept across the weaving wheel, the golden aurora threads gradually took forms of a cape.

Arabae and the Traveller stood aside and observed with great interest. When there were only a few finishing stitches to be done, Chen stopped suddenly. His brows rose, gazed at the wheel and sighed.

‘The thread has run out. What a shame.’

VI.

Arabae tilted his head - the thread had run out?

Chen lifted the delicate garment carefully with his paws: it was such a splendid golden cape, upon which golden thread embroidered intricate ornaments. The Traveller could see the bottom of the cape was loose, needing a few stitches to close.

‘We just need one more thread,’ Chen meowed, scratching his ears.

The night had fallen. The sun sunk completely under the horizon, taking away the final tint from the sky. The stars were shining as brightly as ever.

‘It looks as good as finished,’ asked Arabae, fiddling the tassel on his headdress, ‘do you absolutely need that final thread?’

‘I am so sorry,’ answered Chen, ‘I am afraid I do. Without the final thread, the cape would be no use.

‘Look, every sundown the fish, who possesses half of the Creator’s soul, sings that evensong. His song was woven into golden threads by passing winds. If one ever puts on the cape woven by those threads, one could reach wherever the evensong is heard.’

‘Where would you go in your golden cape then?’ Arabae could barely contain his curiosity.

Chen smiled, his thin pupils widened. He touched the water by the tail, a chain of silver bells, fastened to his tail, brightly jingled. The soft billow hardened as if it froze. Stars twinkled to the bell music, then the projection of a young boy’s fair face appeared.

He rested peacefully, like a slumbering angel, long lashes laid under his crescent eyes. Gently Chen approached that dainty face with his tail, but it could only touch the water surface, obstacled by something unseen but firm.

Curiously Arabae touched the water, the chilling liquid made him shiver. The boy’s projection shattered and disappeared with creased ripples.

The Traveller pulled him towards the dry land: ‘That is merely a shadow from the riverbed, you won’t be able to touch it.’

Chen sighed, his tail still swept upon the river surface: ‘This is Ciel, my dear little brother. I love him to bits: his fair face, his soft voice. One day he fell into Dolorosa and never came up. My Ciel must have been cold and lonely, I wish to bring him home.

‘But I am to guard the water, by the Creator’s order, so I have to seam this cape, once it is finished I will travel with it, to reach him and find him.’

Arabae bent to observe the boy, whose projection reformed as the water calmed. The water lovingly caressed his blonde hair, and countless stars illuminated his beautiful sleeping features.

‘Perhaps he is not that lonely,’ said Arabae to Chen, ‘see, he has so many stars for company.’

The Traveller ruffled Arabae’s hair.

The night darkened further, starlight from underwater glazed the world with shimmering silver, every face seemed to be gleaming. The Traveller looked across Dolorosa, gazed at the volcano, which stood in solitude against the nocturnal sky, with its distance imperceivable and its silhouette obscure.

‘If you really want a golden thread, I should be able to pick you one,’ said the Traveller suddenly to Chen, ‘however, once you finish with the cape, you would loan it to me.’

‘That is a delightful deal,’ Chen’s somber features broke into a smile, his whiskers shook with glee, ‘I see no reason to reject you.’

‘Alright then,’ said the Traveller, ‘please take me over the water, so I could provide you with the golden thread you need.’

‘So you wish to cross the Dolorosa water, that is unfortunate,’ said Chen, his smile became apologetic again, ‘I have solemnly sworn to the Creator, that every passenger had to submit a golden thread as the fare.’

Arabae startled. ‘But the golden thread can only be obtained at the volcano, how can we get you one without crossing the water?’

Chen’s smile was not disturbed: ‘Give me a thread, thus could I take thee over the water.’

Frustrated, Arabae tried to debate with him. But whatever he said, Chen’s response was always the same.

Give me a thread, thus could I take thee over the water.

From the volcano, the golden aurora threads drifted freely into the vast sky. The fish leaned his weary head on the rock. The sky overhead was pitch black, and stars blazed underneath their feet. The argument between Arabae and Chen went on. 

Silently the Traveller fastened his hood, the broad brim casted a large shadow upon his face, only showing his chin. His pupils darkened, they were darker than the night. All of a sudden a tide of exhaustion washed over him, just like how he felt when he fainted on the Swan Master’s library staircase.

VII.

Dazzling sunlight. Exhausted limbs. Crossed pathways. Throbbing pain.

The wind rose, the bells chimed. A match was ignited, and sweats dropped from his lashes.

And a distant, yet gaily laughter.

Bubbles came out of murky hot-spring water, as the Traveller suddenly lifted his head and breathed heavily. Water dripped from his dark hair, streaming down his damp skin.

He closed his eyes wearily and leaned towards the shore. His pale face seemed somehow translucent among clusters of steam.

He had already stayed for some whiles in El Dorado, but still having flashback about the perilous journey which led him here. 

He exhaled and tried to calm himself. 

He had traveled far, far to come here, even to himself the distance was barely believable. Every step he had taken was carved into his very soul, painful and harsh, that he dared not to recall.

Then he arrived in El Dorado, met Arabae, for one moment he thought he would stay.

On the way back from Dolorosa, Arabae tried to comfort him: ‘Don’t be too disappointed about that cape. Although that garment will lift immediately in the air, flying for too long will exhaust you anyways.’

At that moment, a gentle kiss fell on his cheek. 

Arabae was still standing tip-toe, gazed at him with his flawless eyes.

Arabae confessed how he pitied him for the journey he had taken, his tears fell before he could cover his eyes. All the pain he had endured rushed towards him, but in front of Arabae he was vulnerable. Arabae just undid his hood and embraced him, with blissful innocence. The sweet scent on Arabae, which reminded him of warmth of sun ray, comforted him greatly.

Arabae kissed him again on his eyelid. ‘I truly adore you,’ he said, ‘I don’t want you to leave, I wish you could stay.’

Long after that, the Traveller could still remember how he submitted himself to the deepest contemplation, after hearing that confession. 

He had endured all the pain and hardship through this journey for his dream. 

If his dream was to come tangible, what form would it take?

And, what form would pain and hardship take?

Still, if love was to take form, would it look like dream, or pain and hardship?

VIII.

Puzzled, the Traveller needed to consult the wisest of El Dorado.

He went to Theo the Swan Master, who failed to provide him with any answer. Theo thus sent him to the Dolorosa Twins. The twins dwelled under the canopy of one tree on Dolorosa shore.

The Traveller stood before them. Their youthful faces were shaded by the lush canopy, but their eyes, gazing down upon the Traveller, were filled with profound wisdom. 

‘What would you like to know?’ Asked them in unison.

The Traveller undid his hood and bowed, then he asked:

‘I would like to know whether I have reached the Utopia.’

The twins eyed each other.

‘Are you not here to search for the Utopia?’

‘This is El Dorado, the city of gold, and it belongs to Arabae, but after this city there are countless miraculous cities to come.’

‘Indeed, there are so many, one could never number them.’

‘Indeed! Countless!’

The twins’ conversation hastily flowed on, not leaving a moment for the Traveller to comprehend.

‘Why it is Arabae’s El Dorado?’ The Traveller asked.

‘The Creator created El Dorado for Arabae, for His lover.’

‘Everything here is dear to Arabae.’

‘Even the Creator’s soul bides here as his guardian.’

‘And you love him.’

‘You’ve fallen in love with the Creator’s beloved.’

The twins were deeply engaged in their argument, as if the Traveller was not there.

‘You are wrong: he did not fall in love with Arabae,’ the younger twin protested.

‘If you truly love Arabae,’ said the elder twin as he eyed the Traveller, ‘you would love everything of him, El Dorado would be your Utopia.’

‘But still, I don’t think you love him that much,’ added the younger twin.

The Traveller lowered his head.

IX.

On his way back, he saw the fish leaving the volcanic lake, embarking on another day roaming the sky. The Traveller looked up to hear its low hum, as his mind was filled with melancholy.

Everything in El Dorado was granted to Arabae, by the Creator. The Creator loved him dearly, even severing His soul in halves, He bided to be Arabae’s guardian.

So, did himself love Arabae? Or it might merely be affection, but even if so, how strong was that?

He could not deny that he had once hesitated. He once wished to abandon his pursuit, in order to stay with Arabae in El Dorado.

But it was really just moment of thought. He was the Traveller, the never-stopping Traveller.

‘You have been standing in silence and stillness for long, sir.’

The Travelled raised his head and saw a youth adorned in a glorious priestly gown. He was tall and slender, bending down and smiled at him.

‘I am Kai,’ said the young priest before the Traveller could question him, ‘as far as I am aware you went to Filia Dolorosa - the wise twins, my respectful elders.’

The Traveller nodded.

‘They are extremely knowledgeable, they could only tell you about the past,’ Kai removed his hat and went on, ‘I know much less, but I can see the future.

‘And you may only ask me one thing.’

The Traveller gazed at Kai, patiently yet nervously waited for the answer once he expressed his query. Kai smiled and put his hat back on. He gently murmured to the Traveller’s ear with his soft voice:

‘No, you never will.’

X.

In the end, the Traveller by all means left El Dorado. He bid no farewell, to no one, before setting off to the unknown journey. Arabae knew that he went on to search for his Utopia.

Adorned in his large hooded cape, the Traveller entered the endless desert. Arabae stood on the city wall and watched, until the Traveller completed disappeared amongst the golden dunes.

Arabae felt empty and melancholic. He no longer wished to sing, nor to laugh anymore.

On the first day after the Traveller’s departure, Arabae went to Theo’s library. Theo offered him a book: ‘No need to be sad. The Traveller had a noble spirit, only he was bound by greed.’

On the second day after the Traveller’s departure, Arabae went to Dolorosa to find Chen. Chen offered him a golden aurora thread: ‘No need to be sad. The Traveller was destined for this endless quest, for wisdom, for freedom and for love. And you are a part of them.’

On the third day after the Traveller’s Departure, Arabae was with the Dolorosa twins. Sharing their canopy with him, they tried to comfort him: ‘No need to be sad. You meant greatly to him, only his quest meant greater.’

On the fourth day after the Traveller’s Departure, Arabae met Kai. Kai offered him a lily stem: ‘The Traveller once asked me, whether he would eventually reach the Utopia.’

‘So how did you answer him?’ Arabae asked keenly.

Kai smiled gently. ‘Of course he will never do. He craved endless wisdom, his dream has no end, how could this place be, this place that contains all he desired?’

Arabae recalled the last word from the Traveller.

‘If I happen to find the Utopia, I am certain I will see you there. However I would not stay here for you.’

He himself was not all the Traveller desired, should he just rejoice upon the fact about being a part of his heart’s desired?

On the fifth day after the Traveller’s departure, El Dorado vanished. The city of gold, once the grand gift from the Creator to Arabae, was no longer favoured by its blessed patron.

As the ancient tale goes, when the sun set behind the dunes, tinting endless desert in gold, behold, on the horizon was the city of gold, the celestial kingdom of El Dorado.

Arabae sat in the desert, all alone. The titanic sun slowly set before him, around him the sand dunes glowed in gold.

Behind him the empty desert stretched, it was so empty, as if the miraculous El Dorado had never existed. Arabae was so lonely, as if his was the only living being left on this endless, lifeless earth. Out of the mist, he thought he witness the first ray of light baptising the newborn universe, within which slowly hiking was the never returning Traveller.

Amongst the whistling wind he heard a gentle call. He turned and saw a man standing behind him. Bathed in light, this man smiled and gazed him with love. He reached out his hand, with long dainty finger tips, upon which glowed the same mark embroidered on Arabae’s little garment.

The Creator had returned.

El Dorado was gone, alongside with the volcano and the fish. Two halves of the Creator’s soul again reunited.

Suddenly profound sorrow overwhelmed Arabae, he was rushed over by this gigantic wave. Breathless, he tried to respond the Creator with a smile, but a tear rolled down his cheek.

‘I am so tired,’ said Arabae to the Creator, ‘please let me sleep.’

Thus Arabae laid in the Creator’s ring, and slept for eternity.

The Creator witnessed him being born to daylight from the darkness, witnessed him falling in love with the earthly Traveller, witnessed his tears, and witnessed him disappearing before His very eyes.

With much grief, the Creator’s lips touched his ring. As if they touched Arabae’s dainty slumbering cheeks.

Epilogue

At the beginning of time, between sky and earth the Creator stood alone. He said, ‘let there be light,’ then there was light. The Creator created light out of the most beautiful, most sublime part of His very soul, thus He was deeply in love with light. Then light drifted away from darkness, turning into the day, and darkness into the night. The light no longer belonged to the Creator, drenched in sorrow His soul split in half, one turned into the fervent volcano, the other into the gentle fish. Long after, the Creator created Arabae, out of the daylight, and granted him El Dorado, the city of gold.

The Creator waited for His beloved to return. However, once Arabae learnt to love, he graced the never-stopping Traveller with this priceless, sublime jewel.

I heard this story a long, long time ago. I have not the slightest idea what eventually happened to Arabae, nor do I know where the Creator had gone. 

But one thing I know for sure: the Traveller did not stop for any splendour, which he had witnessed along this unending journey.

Because he was the never-stopping Traveller.