当那圣贤从沙漠。 

When the sage cameback in.

回来。 

From the desert.

他重扶植起门徒象麻雀。 

He propped thedisciples up again like sparrows.

站在晒衣绳上。 

On a clothesline.

有人已陷绝望令他困惑。 

Some had falleninto despair this puzzled him.

在沙漠中。 

In the desert.

他烘烤着他的心。 

Where he baked hisheart.

没有阴影没有上下提醒他。 

Were no shadows noup and down to remind him.

他们对他是何等依赖一个男孩死在。 

How they dependedon him a boy died.

他的怀抱中。 

In his arms.

他想这回来的代价。 

It is veryexpensive he thought.

太大了。 

To come back.

他开始适从。 

He began toconform.

这世界切离。 

To the cuttingaway ways.

的方式一股火怒号升腾。 

Of this world afire was roaring up.

在他体内他的骨头现为液体而他看到了。 

Inside him hisbones by now liquid and he saw.

他的未来。 

Ahead of him.

在等待没有别的。 

Waiting nothingelse.

只是等待。

Waiting itself.