主播
节目简介
来源：小宇宙
Quiet Verses · 静语
有些东西被我们藏得很深，却从未真正离开。
—
The Guest Beneath the Floor – Original Poem by Orion 2026
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the hour when candles tremble
烛火摇曳的时辰，
And the rain leans on the pane,
雨丝斜倚着窗棂，
I awoke to hear assemble
我醒来，听见
All the footsteps of the rain.
所有雨的脚步正纷纷聚拢。
There it moved beneath my chamber—
有什么在我卧房之下暗动——
Softly, softly, as before—
轻轻地，轻轻地，一如往昔——
Like a hand within the timber,
像一只手在木缝间摸索，
Like a breath beneath the floor.
像一缕呼吸伏在地板之下。
"Only wind," I said, still lying,
“不过是风罢了，”我仍躺着说，
While the midnight gathered near;
而午夜正悄然逼近；
Yet the sound was not of sighing,
然而那声响并非叹息，
But of someone drawing clear.
而是有人正渐渐走近、清晰。
Three slow knocks arose below me,
三声缓慢的敲击从下方升起，
Then a pause, and then one more—
一阵停顿，又是一声——
As though someone wished to show me
仿佛有人要让我看见
What still waited beneath the floor.
地板之下仍在等候的东西。
Long ago, when leaves were burning
很久以前，当落叶如火燃烧，
And the moon was white with frost,
月色白如霜，
There had been a night of turning,
曾有一个辗转难眠之夜，
There had been a love I lost.
曾有一段我失去的爱。
I had sealed it from remembrance,
我将它封存于记忆之外，
I had closed the inward door—
我关上了内心深处那扇门——
Yet affection keeps the semblance
然而深情仍留着钥匙的形状，
Of a key beneath the floor.
藏在地板之下。
Then a voice, as faint as ashes,
然后一个声音，微弱如灰烬，
Spoke my name without a tongue;
无需唇舌，便唤出了我的名字；
And the lightning's silver flashes
闪电的银色光芒
Made the ancient rafters young.
让古老的椽木重焕青春。
"Do you sleep?" it breathed in sorrow.
“你睡着了吗？”它悲伤地低语。
"Do you dream as once before?
“你还像从前那样做梦吗？
Will you meet me in tomorrow—
你愿在明日与我相见——
Or remain above the floor?"
还是继续留在地板之上？”
I arose, though fear still pleaded;
我起身，尽管恐惧仍在哀求；
I approached the trembling boards.
我走向那颤抖的木板。
Every step became unheeded,
每一步都悄无声息，
Every thought dissolved to chords.
每一个念头都化作了和弦。
With a blade I split the flooring,
我用刀刃劈开地板，
Split the darkness at its core—
劈开黑暗最深的心脏——
And I heard, beneath the roaring,
我听见，在那轰鸣之下，
Something gentle under the floor.
地板深处有某种温柔的东西。
There was neither bone nor body,
那里既无白骨也无躯体，
Neither coffin, cloth, nor chain—
无棺木、无裹布、无锁链——
Only earth, and resting softly,
只有泥土，而轻轻安放着的，
Lay a ribbon marked by rain.
是一条留有雨痕的丝带。
Then I knew the thing below me
于是我明白，我脚下的
Was no phantom sent to grieve—
并非前来令我悲恸的幽灵——
It was all the love that told me
那是全部的爱，在告诉我
What the heart refused to leave.
心不肯告别的是什么。
Now at night the house grows kinder,
如今夜晚，这房子变得温柔了，
And the walls no longer mourn;
墙壁不再低声哀悼；
Every memory grows brighter,
每一段记忆都渐渐明亮，
Every sorrow changes form.
每一份悲伤都换了形状。
Still the knocking gathers slowly,
敲击声依旧缓缓聚拢，
Still I count from one to four—
我依旧从一数到四——
But the dead are not below me.
但逝者不在我脚下。
They are near me evermore.
他们永远伴我左右。
—
Quiet Verses · 静语
MisterRein
有些东西被我们藏得很深，却从未真正离开。
—
The Guest Beneath the Floor – Original Poem by Orion 2026
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the hour when candles tremble
烛火摇曳的时辰，
And the rain leans on the pane,
雨丝斜倚着窗棂，
I awoke to hear assemble
我醒来，听见
All the footsteps of the rain.
所有雨的脚步正纷纷聚拢。
There it moved beneath my chamber—
有什么在我卧房之下暗动——
Softly, softly, as before—
轻轻地，轻轻地，一如往昔——
Like a hand within the timber,
像一只手在木缝间摸索，
Like a breath beneath the floor.
像一缕呼吸伏在地板之下。
"Only wind," I said, still lying,
“不过是风罢了，”我仍躺着说，
While the midnight gathered near;
而午夜正悄然逼近；
Yet the sound was not of sighing,
然而那声响并非叹息，
But of someone drawing clear.
而是有人正渐渐走近、清晰。
Three slow knocks arose below me,
三声缓慢的敲击从下方升起，
Then a pause, and then one more—
一阵停顿，又是一声——
As though someone wished to show me
仿佛有人要让我看见
What still waited beneath the floor.
地板之下仍在等候的东西。
Long ago, when leaves were burning
很久以前，当落叶如火燃烧，
And the moon was white with frost,
月色白如霜，
There had been a night of turning,
曾有一个辗转难眠之夜，
There had been a love I lost.
曾有一段我失去的爱。
I had sealed it from remembrance,
我将它封存于记忆之外，
I had closed the inward door—
我关上了内心深处那扇门——
Yet affection keeps the semblance
然而深情仍留着钥匙的形状，
Of a key beneath the floor.
藏在地板之下。
Then a voice, as faint as ashes,
然后一个声音，微弱如灰烬，
Spoke my name without a tongue;
无需唇舌，便唤出了我的名字；
And the lightning's silver flashes
闪电的银色光芒
Made the ancient rafters young.
让古老的椽木重焕青春。
"Do you sleep?" it breathed in sorrow.
“你睡着了吗？”它悲伤地低语。
"Do you dream as once before?
“你还像从前那样做梦吗？
Will you meet me in tomorrow—
你愿在明日与我相见——
Or remain above the floor?"
还是继续留在地板之上？”
I arose, though fear still pleaded;
我起身，尽管恐惧仍在哀求；
I approached the trembling boards.
我走向那颤抖的木板。
Every step became unheeded,
每一步都悄无声息，
Every thought dissolved to chords.
每一个念头都化作了和弦。
With a blade I split the flooring,
我用刀刃劈开地板，
Split the darkness at its core—
劈开黑暗最深的心脏——
And I heard, beneath the roaring,
我听见，在那轰鸣之下，
Something gentle under the floor.
地板深处有某种温柔的东西。
There was neither bone nor body,
那里既无白骨也无躯体，
Neither coffin, cloth, nor chain—
无棺木、无裹布、无锁链——
Only earth, and resting softly,
只有泥土，而轻轻安放着的，
Lay a ribbon marked by rain.
是一条留有雨痕的丝带。
Then I knew the thing below me
于是我明白，我脚下的
Was no phantom sent to grieve—
并非前来令我悲恸的幽灵——
It was all the love that told me
那是全部的爱，在告诉我
What the heart refused to leave.
心不肯告别的是什么。
Now at night the house grows kinder,
如今夜晚，这房子变得温柔了，
And the walls no longer mourn;
墙壁不再低声哀悼；
Every memory grows brighter,
每一段记忆都渐渐明亮，
Every sorrow changes form.
每一份悲伤都换了形状。
Still the knocking gathers slowly,
敲击声依旧缓缓聚拢，
Still I count from one to four—
我依旧从一数到四——
But the dead are not below me.
但逝者不在我脚下。
They are near me evermore.
他们永远伴我左右。
—
Quiet Verses · 静语
MisterRein
外观
