Some people hear their own inner voices with great clearness, and they live by what they hear. Such people become crazy or they become legend.
有些人能清楚地听见来自心灵的声音，他们依着那声音作息，这种人最终不是疯了，就是成了传说。
The word "civilized" has no place in discussing the affairs of this world.
这世上的事…难以说是文明的。
The Old Ones say: "When a man and an animal have spilled each other's blood they become one '"
长老说：当人和野兽互相使对方流血，他们便合为一体了。
Stab, speak English? He wouldn't lower himself to speak English.
“一刀”，说英语？他才不会降格说英文。
As evening fell a maiden stood.
At the edge of a wood.
In her hands lay the reins Of a stallion.
And n'er I'd seen A girl as fair.
Heard a gentler voice anywhere.
Whispered, alas She belonged.
Belonged to another.
Another, forever.
Yes, she belonged to.
The twilight and mist.
夜幕低垂，一位女士站在一片树林的边缘外，她的手上持着驯马的鞭绳，从没见过这么美丽的女孩，随处可听见一温柔的声音，向她轻声细诉，她属于…她属于另一个人，另一个人，永远属于他，是的，她应属于…这薄暮和朦眬的雾中。
His name is One Stab. He's a venerated elder of the Cree and has counted coup on hundreds of his enemies. He is our friend. He's thirsty.
他叫“一刀”，他是受尊敬的克里族长老，他割下无数敌人的头皮，他是我们的朋友，他口渴。
I think it was the bear's voice he heard deep inside him growling low of dark, secret places.
我认为他听到内心的灰熊声音…静静的在咆哮…在黑暗，隐蔽的地方。
I see now not that my father was right, but that I was naive.
我现在才明白，不是爸说得对，只是我天真而已。
But every year, in the Moon of the Falling Leaves. I would dream that the bear's voice inside him had grown silent and that Tristan might again come to live in the world. But then the winter would come, and then another spring, and still he stayed away.
每年在落叶的月份，我会梦见他内心的灰熊声音，变得沉寂，梦见崔斯汀可能再次活在这世上，但之后冬天会来到，跟着是另一个春天，而他仍没有回来。
His grave is unmarked but it does not matter, he had always lived in the borderland anyway: Somewhere between this world and the other. It was a good death.
他的墓并没有记号，但没关系，反正他常活在边缘之地，在今生和来世之间，他…死得其所。