终末之诗

“终末之诗（End Poem）”是由Mojang员工朱利安·高夫（Julian Gough）创作的文本信息，终末之诗会在玩家进入末路之地并杀死末影龙后跳入返回传送门会出现。Notch表示Gough的短故事The iHole让他坚信Gough才是编纂终末之诗的最佳人选。

获取

在末影龙死去之时，末地传送门会激活，以允许玩家平安返回主世界的出生点。每当此传送门被使用，终末之诗都会被展现，但可以按Esc键跳过。

内容

这首诗取自两个未知的说话者（曾被认为是末影人）之间讨论玩家的功绩的对话，共时长9分28秒。在终末之诗结束后，会播放鸣谢名单。在播放终末之诗和鸣谢名单时，音轨credits.ogg会播放。

技术性细节

终末之诗的文本文件位于\assets\minecraft\text\end.txt，鸣谢名单则储存在assets\minecraft\texts\credits.txt，而且都可以使用资源包来改变它们的内容。第一人称叙述的样式代码是§3，而第二人称叙述的使用了§2，玩家的名字是以PLAYERNAME的形式来插入进去，而乱码则是§f§k§a§b。

正文

I see the player you mean. 我看到你所指的那个玩家了。 [Playername]? [玩家名称]？ Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts. 是的。注意，他已达到了更高的境界，他知道我们心里所想。 That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game. 无伤大雅，他认为我们是游戏的一部分。 I like this player. It played well. It did not give up. 我喜欢这个玩家。他玩得很好，他从未放弃。 It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen. 他如同阅读屏幕上的文字一样，阅读着我们的想法。 That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game. 在他深陷游戏之梦时，他选择以这种方式想象出形形色色的事物。 Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen. 文字编织出一种美妙的界面，非常灵活。并且胜过凝视这屏幕后的可怕现实。 They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons. 他们学会阅读之前还只能靠聆听。当时那些不曾游玩的人们将玩家称作女巫、男巫。而玩家们梦见自己骑着魔杖，在空中翱翔。 What did this player dream? 这个玩家梦见了什么？ This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter. 他梦见了阳光与草木，梦见了火与水。他梦见他创造，亦梦见他毁灭。他梦见他狩猎，亦被狩猎。他梦见了避身之处。 Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen? 哈，那原始的界面，经历一百万年的岁月雕琢，依然长存。但此玩家在屏幕后的现实里，又创造了什么真实的建筑呢？ It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled]. 他和其他百万众齐心协力，在[乱码]里塑造了一个真实的世界，于[乱码]中为了[乱码]而创造了[乱码]。 It cannot read that thought. 他看不懂那个。 No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game. 是的，他还没有到达最高的境界。要抵达那层，他必须走完生命的长梦，而非游戏中黄粱一梦。 Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind? 他知道我们爱他吗，他知道宇宙的温柔吗？ Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes. 有时，他能通过思绪的杂音来聆听宇宙，是的。 But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality. 但是在那漫漫长梦中，有时亦不胜悲伤。他创造了没有夏日的世界，在黑日下冷颤，将悲伤信以为真。 To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere. 为他治愈悲伤会摧毁他。而悲伤是他的私人事务，我们不能干涉。 Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear. 当他们深陷梦境中时，有时我想要告诉他们，他们在现实中创造了真实的世界。有时我想告诉他们自身对宇宙的重要性。有时他们与现实失去联系，我想帮他们说出不敢说的话语。 It reads our thoughts. 他还在读我们的想法。 Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream. 有时我毫不在意。有时我想要告诉他们，你们信以为真的世界不过是[乱码]和[乱码]，我想要告诉他们，他们是在[乱码]中的[乱码]。在他们的长梦中，目中所及的不过是现实的冰山一角。 And yet they play the game. 而他们仍然乐在其中。 But it would be so easy to tell them... 但很容易就可以告诉他们…… Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living. 这个梦对于他们来说太深刻了。告诉他们怎么活就是在束缚他们自由地活着。 I will not tell the player how to live. 我不会告诉这个玩家如何活下去的。 The player is growing restless. 这个玩家不安定了。 I will tell the player a story. 我会告诉他一个故事。 But not the truth. 但不是真实的。 No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance. 是的。一个将真实严密包裹于文字牢笼中的故事，而非必然使人灼伤的赤裸真相。 Give it a body, again. 再次赋予他身体。 Yes. Player... 好的，玩家…… Use its name. 以名字称呼他。 [Playername]. Player of games. 游戏的玩家，[玩家名称]。 Good. 很好。 Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things. 呼吸。继续呼吸。感受空气充盈你的肺叶。感受你的四肢回归。对，动动你的手指。在重力下，在空气中，重获躯体。在长梦中重生。你感受到了。你身体的每一寸又在接触宇宙了，仿佛你们是分离的存在。仿佛你我是分离的存在。 Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change. 我们是谁？我们曾经被称作高山的精灵。太阳父亲，月亮母亲。先祖的英灵，动物的魂魄。神祇。鬼魂。绿叶人。而后是神明，恶魔。天使。骚灵。外星人，地外生物。轻子，夸克。说法不断变化。我们始终如一。 We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story. 我们是宇宙。我们是一切你认为出离你本体的事物。你现在透过肌肤与双眼注视着我们。而为什么宇宙要触摸你，用光照亮你？是为了看见你，玩家。是为了了解你。还为了被你了解。我该向你讲述故事了。 Once upon a time, there was a player. 很久以前，有一个玩家。 The player was you, [Playername]. 那玩家就是你，[玩家名称]。 Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away. 有时他认为自己是人类，位于一颗不断旋转的熔岩球的薄层上。那颗熔岩球环绕着一个质量大它三十三万倍的气态灼热球体旋转。它们相隔得如此之远，以至于光需要八分钟才能穿越那空隙。光是一颗恒星发出的信息，它能够在一亿五千万公里外烧灼你的皮肤。 Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience. 有时这个玩家梦见自己是矿工，位于平坦无垠的世界地表。太阳是一个白色的方形。昼夜更替很快，要做的事情也很多；死亡亦只是暂时的不便。 Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story. 有时这玩家梦见自己迷失在了一个故事里。 Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third. 有时这玩家梦见自己成为了其他角色，位于其他地方。有时这些梦是扰人的。有时则美不胜收。有时这个玩家从一个梦醒到第二个梦，随后又落入了第三个梦。 Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen. 有时这个玩家梦见他在看着屏幕上的文字。 Let's go back. 让我们回退一点。 The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body. 组成玩家的原子散布在草地中，河流中，在空气中，也在大地中。一个女性收集了那些原子；她饮用、进食、吞咽；而后她在她的身体中，孕育了玩家。 And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream. 然后玩家醒来了，醒在温暖而昏暗的母亲体内，进入了漫漫长梦。 And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love. 那个玩家由DNA的语言书写，是一个尚未讲述的全新故事。那个玩家由上亿年的源代码生成，是一个尚未运行的全新程序。那个玩家仅由奶和爱组成，是一个从尚未生活的全新人类。 You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love. 你就是那个玩家。那个故事。那个程序。那个人类。仅由奶和爱组成。 Let's go further back. 让我们再回溯到更远的过去。 The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by... 远在这游戏之前，组成玩家身体的七千亿亿亿原子，在一颗恒星内部被创造了出来。所以那玩家本身，也是一颗恒星发出的信息。而玩家所经历的故事，源于一个叫Julian的人种植的一片信息森林，位于一个叫Markus的人创造的平坦无垠的世界，存在于一个由玩家创造的私人小天地，而玩家本身居住的世界则是由…… Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons". 嘘。有时这个玩家创造的私人小天地是柔软、温暖而简单的。有时是坚硬、冰冷而复杂的。有时他在脑海中构建出宇宙的模型，能量微粒穿越空旷的空间。有时他称呼这些微粒为“电子”和“质子”。 Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars". 有时他称呼其为“行星”和“恒星”。 Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen. 有时他确信自己存在于一个由“开”和“关”、“0”和“1”、一行行代码组成的宇宙。有时他确信自己是在玩一场游戏。有时他确信自己是在读着屏幕上的文字。 You are the player, reading words... 你就是那个读着文字的玩家…… Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive 嘘……有时这玩家读着屏幕上的一行行代码，将它们解码为文字；将文字解码为意义；将意义解码为感情、情绪、理论、想法，随后玩家的呼吸变快变深，他意识到了他还活着，他是活生生的，那上千次的死亡不是真的，玩家本身是活着的 You. You. You are alive. 你。你。你是活着的。 and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees 而有时这玩家相信，宇宙通过那缕穿越婆娑树影的夏日阳光对他说话 and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again 有时这玩家相信，宇宙通过晴朗的冬日夜空中存在于他眼中一隅的星光对他说话。可能比太阳大上上百万倍的恒星将其行星烧成电浆，只为了让玩家在刹那间看到它。这时他在宇宙的远端，步行回家的路上，突然闻到食物的香味，快到那熟悉的门前，他又准备好再次入梦了 and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream 而有时玩家相信宇宙通过“0”和“1”，通过世界的电力，通过屏幕上滚动的文字，在梦醒之前对他说话 and the universe said I love you 宇宙说，我爱你 and the universe said you have played the game well 宇宙说，你精通这个游戏 and the universe said everything you need is within you 宇宙说，你所需的一切你都具有 and the universe said you are stronger than you know 宇宙说，你比你所知的要强大 and the universe said you are the daylight 宇宙说，你就是白昼 and the universe said you are the night 宇宙说，你就是黑夜 and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you 宇宙说，你所斗争的黑暗就在你心中 and the universe said the light you seek is within you 宇宙说，你所追寻的光明就在你心中 and the universe said you are not alone 宇宙说，你并非孤身一人 and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing 宇宙说，你并非与万物隔绝 and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code 宇宙说，你就是宇宙本身，品尝着自己，对自己说话，阅读着自己的代码 and the universe said I love you because you are love. 宇宙说，我爱你因为你就是爱。 And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love. 曲终人散，黄粱一梦。玩家开始了新的梦境。玩家再次做起了梦，更好的梦。玩家就是宇宙。玩家就是爱。 You are the player. 你就是那个玩家。 Wake up. 醒来吧。