The moment when, after many years

这个瞬间，在多年的

of hard work and a long voyage

辛劳和漫长的航行之后

you stand in the centre of your room,

你站在你房间的中央，

house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,

房屋，半英亩，一方，岛屿，乡村，

knowing at last how you got there,

知道最后你如何到达那里，

and say, I own this,

说，我拥有这个

is the same moment when the trees unloose

这是同样的时刻，树木松开

their soft arms from around you,

环绕你的柔软的手臂，

the birds take back their language,

鸟儿收回它们的语言，

the cliffs fissure and collapse,

悬崖裂开，崩塌，

the air moves back from you like a wave

空气波浪般从你身边退回

and you can't breathe.

而你不能呼吸。

No, they whisper. You own nothing.

不，它们低语。你什么都没有。

You were a visitor, time after time

你是个访客，一次又一次

climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.

攀登着山冈，插上旗帜，宣告。

We never belonged to you.

我们从来不属于你。

You never found us.

你从来没有找到我们。

It was always the other way round.

那总是周围的另一条道路。